They say that every man has a mistress, and I guess that I am no exception. What makes my affair different, however, is that I started it a couple of days before I got married, over twenty years ago. I really never stood a chance against her intoxicating perfumes, and heart-catching looks. I was seduced by her strange and subtle ways, and her passion washed over me like the tide. When I came to Hawaii to marry my wife, I started a love affair with the Hawaiian Islands that I have never been willing, or able, to break off.
I met my wife on the mainland. Although a haole girl, she was born and raised in the islands and was as local as poi (a thick edible paste made from taro root). She spoke of her home with zeal, and often used superlatives. I would sometimes roll my eyes as she talked about the breathtaking beaches, strange and delicious foods, and the Hawaiian ohana - family.
When you think about the Hawaiian ohana, you think about food. Hawaiians love to eat. They load their tables with everything from traditional foods such as poi, rice, pork lau-laus, and lomi-lomi salmon, to more modern dishes such as Huli-Huli chicken. You can also find sumptuous Asian cuisine, various fusion dishes that combine the tastes of several cultures, and local-style meals like the loco-moco (a gravy-drenched hamburger patty on a bed of rice and topped with a fried egg). Hawaii even has its own version of the doughnut – the malasada (a fried dough ball covered in sugar and sometimes filled). For one of the most isolated islands in the world, they know how to eat.
Although remote, the islands offer a wide variety of activities to entertain you. Tourism is the number one industry in Hawaii, and there’s no shortage of tourist attractions. For a walk through history, visit the Arizona Memorial at Pearl Harbor, or the Bishop Museum. For a taste of the island culture, visit the Polynesian Culture Center. With miles of beckoning beaches positioned against ridgelines covered in lush rainforest, Hawaii offers something for every traveler. You can skydive, or scuba dive. You can learn to surf, or learn to swing your hips and hula dance. You can hike to a secluded waterfall, or read a book on a secluded beach.
The most famous beach in Hawaii is Waikiki. Even though it is crowded by tall condominiums and hotels, this crescent beach still maintains its iconic beauty with Diamond Head rising at its east end. You can play in the sand, soak up the warm tropical sun, or take a ride in an outrigger canoe. If you want to try your hand (or foot) at surfing, the long rolling waves of Waikiki offer the best place in the world to learn how to surf. On any given day a beginning surfer with no experience can walk up to one of the surf shacks, and learn to ride the waves within an hour.
When you’re done learning to surf, a short walk will take you to the international marketplace for spectacular shopping. The marketplace offers a variety of souvenirs and gifts that you can haggle over and bargain for. If you’re shopping budget allows for finer tastes, there are numerous boutiques and name-brand shops that offer a wide range of finer goods. At night the Waikiki shopping district is also crowded with street performers that will entertain and amuse you. Just be prepared to shell out a few bills if you do more than look at them in passing.
Snorkeling is a great way to get a passing look at another world without too much trouble. Hanauma Bay, a short drive from downtown Honolulu, is an excellent spot to view brightly colored reef fish, squid, and even green sea turtles in a safe and comfortable environment. It gets crowded, so arrive early. The entrance fee is five dollars for adults, and you will be introduced to the park with an informative video about the park and its sea life. Since the bay was formed when the ocean eroded one side of a volcano, as you enter the park from above you have a spectacular view of the entire bay and the sparkling blue water below, but the lofty view also means a steep walk up and down. Take a few extra dollars to pay for the tram ride up and down. It’s worth the money.
Cost is what keeps most people away from Hawaiian Islands, but there are several ways to reduce the overall cost of your trip. If you can, try to travel during the off-season months, such as May or October. You will find the prices cheaper, and the beaches less crowded. Look for package deals that include airfare, hotel, and rental car. Since food is your biggest expense while there, try to find accommodations with a kitchen or kitchenette, and prepare your own meals. To save on airfare, save up your frequent flyer miles. You may even consider a credit card that gives you frequent flyer miles. If you enjoy beach activities, your entertainment costs while there will be minimal.
They say that every man has a mistress, but they never tell you the true cost of such an affair. Make your affair an affordable one. Take your spouse to Hawaii, and start an island affair of your own.
I am a conservative. I vote for conservative candidates. I am not convinced that the science of global warming is solved, nor do I support a government cap-and-trade system to stem carbon emissions. I am not a tree hugger.
I am not a tree hugger because of the hypocrisy of the environmental elitists. Their do-as-I-say-not-as-I-do attitude has kept me from being as “green” as Kermit the Frog. They fly around on private airplanes drinking bottled water accepting awards for their groundbreaking “documentaries” demanding us to save the planet - So much for leading by example.
Hypocrisy aside, we do face some serious environmental challenges that threaten other species as well as our way of life. We have been poor stewards of a glorious world bursting with resources that have enhanced and enriched our lives. We have failed to care for Mother Earth and have treated her like an aging and senile mother that only deserves to be locked away in a retirement home and visited occasionally with token gifts of appreciation.
If we don’t do a better job, she is going to write both liberals and conservatives out of her will.
I am not a tree hugger, yet I care deeply about our planet and the health of our environment. I believe that conservatives can save the planet.
In the North Pacific Gyre a huge mass of debris and trash floats along swirling like some large cosmic galaxy of garbage. The currents of the North Pacific act as a gravitational pull that cause the planets of refuse to be sucked into this black hole of trash. The Great Pacific Garbage Patch is estimated to be larger than the state of Texas, and it is growing.
Who is responsible for this trash catastrophe? We all are.
On average, each person generates almost 500 kilograms of waste per year. This river of rubbish is not always controlled or contained and ends up as flotsam in our streams, rivers, and eventually our oceans. Some of that litter will end up as a constellation in that galaxy of garbage in the Pacific.
As a conservative, I don’t think the problem can be solved by government decree, or through some fancy new cap and trade scheme, but it can be solved by the very people that created it – Us. Since we created the problem, we can fix it. We may not relate to saving the rain forest or feel empowered enough to stop global warming, but each of us has the power to control the trash of the world in three easy steps – Control, Reduce, and Inspire.
Our first step is to take personal responsibility for our own trash and control its disposal. The Boy Scouts have a camping policy – Leave no trace behind. We should adopt that policy in our daily lives when it comes to trash. We make sure that we leave no trace of trash behind us in our daily activities. We must control every single item of debris that we generate, right down to the smallest candy wrapper. We must never litter.
Next we should examine our daily habits and reduce the amount of waste that we create. How many things do we send off to the landfill that could be reused or recycled? If each of us recycled at least ten percent of our waste, we would reduce the amount of waste by over 15 billion kilograms of waste each year in the United States alone. Every piece of trash that we recycle is one less star in that swirling cesspool in the Pacific.
More important than regulating, reusing, or recycling, is our attitude. A conscientious attitude is contagious. If we display a genuine caring attitude towards our Mother Earth, others around us will also become more aware. We don’t have to preach some self-righteous doctrine of environmental elitism. We don’t need to browbeat our neighbors into to ecological submission. We simply need to start with our own individual actions and make our attitude contagious. Some will follow our example.
We can clean up our yard. We can clean up our street. We can clean up our neighborhood. We can clean up our city. Every piece of trash that is left to blow in the breeze or float along a waterway will eventually end up spoiling a vista or damaging a habitat. If each of us were to pick up one errant piece of trash a day, our world would be more beautiful and livable. It doesn’t take a mandate from the United Nations, it only takes the courage of one individual to act.
Future generations deserve a healthy world to live in. We owe them that much. Hypocritical environmental elitism will not accomplish the task. Individual responsibility will.
Before we set out to save the rain forest, let’s try cleaning up our own backyard.
Have you ever had to order food in a foreign country where you didn't speak the language and they didn't speak English? Here's a short segment I wrote for an exercise that shows how much you can communicate without talking. Please feel free to share any similar experiences, or explain some other nonverbal ways of communication. Just keep it clean : ).
A Quiet Breakfast
It was our first day in Brazil, and after a long sleep, Mike and I were starving. “I hope somebody speaks English in the restaurant. I’m starved,” I said as the elevator door closed.
“Who cares if anyone speaks English? You can get by without words in most places,” answered Mike. He had traveled all over the world, and this was my on-the-job training. “In fact, I’ll bet you breakfast that I can get us in and out of the restaurant without saying a word,” he said with clever smile.
I looked at him with a raised eyebrow, “You’re on.” We shook on it.
The bell rang and the door opened. Mike looked at me, winked, motioned with his head, and led the way to the hotel restaurant. As we approached the restaurant a young woman smiled and asked us something in Brazilian. Mike smiled in return and held up two fingers.
She nodded, grabbed two menus, and ushered us to a table with a motion of her hand. I took a seat across from Mike as the waitress served up a menu to each of us. Mike held up his coffee cup and smiled. The waitress nodded and looked at me. A little unsure, I hesitated in surprise, but then realized why she was looking at me and turned over my coffee mug. I’m not a coffee drinker. She nodded and scurried off in search of coffee.
Mike looked over the menu with the furrowed brow of a librarian and pursed his lips. I looked at the menu and saw the reason for his intense focus – the menu was all in Brazilian. He brought a finger to his lips and looked up as if he was searching for a translation to appear somewhere in the air above his head.
Just then the waitress appeared with a pot of coffee and began filling his cup. When the cup was two-thirds full he motioned horizontally with his hand, and she stopped filling. She held up a small ceramic pitcher with her left hand and motioned with her right hand. Mike smiled and gave a big nod. The waitress poured cream until the mug was almost full. Mike gave her a thumbs-up, took a sip, and let out a satisfied sigh. The waitress smiled and held up a pitcher of water to me. I raised my glass with a smile and she filled it with ice water.
Mike rotated the menu on the table towards the waitress and pointed to one of the dishes listed. He put his thumbs in his armpits and flapped his arms like wings. Then he made an oval shape with his fingers and nodded with questioning eyes. The waitress let out a chuckle, and nodded. Mike tapped the dish listed on the menu definitively, and gave a coordinated nod. The waitress wrote it down and looked at me with questioning eyes and pencil poised. I simply tapped the menu on the same dish hoping Mike was ordering us eggs.
The waitress took our menus and orders and headed for the kitchen. We sat like two kids playing the silent game as we waited for our food.
About ten minutes later the waitress brought two plates loaded with thin sliced ham, scrambled eggs, and some rolls with cheese melted on top. Mike gave her a big toothless grin and rubbed his hands together in anticipation, and then readied his silverware and napkin. Getting into the spirit, I motioned to my glass for more water. She nodded and filled my glass with water and recharged Mike’s coffee cup.
We ate in quiet satisfaction, only breaking our silence with the tinkling of silverware. Mike finished before me and placed his silverware on his almost empty plate, put his napkin next to his plate, and pushed his chair back slightly. He slouched his posture and sipped at the remainder of his coffee looking like the cat that ate the canary. I just shook my head and finished my breakfast.
When I tossed my napkin on the table, the waitress approached with the bill. I reluctantly reached for my wallet, but Mike held up his hand in protest and smirked. He pulled out some Brazilian money and paid. You could tell from the waitress’s eyes that the tip was more than sufficient.
In honor of my son graduating from high school next week, I want to share a some gems of wisdom I stumbled upon.
This list is the work of Charles J. Sykes, author of the 1996 book Dumbing Down Our Kids: Why American Children Feel Good About Themselves But Can't Read, Write, Or Add, and the 2007 book 50 Rules Kids Won't Learn in School: Real-World Antidotes to Feel-Good Education.
Here are fourteen of those rules.
Rule 1
Life is not fair; get used to it.
Rule 2
The world won't care about your self-esteem. The world will expect you to accomplish something before you feel good about yourself.
Rule 3
You will not make 40 thousand dollars a year right out of high school.You won't be a vice president with a car phone until you *earn* both.
Rule 4
If you think your teacher is tough, wait till you get a boss. He doesn't have tenure.
Rule 5
Flipping burgers is not beneath your dignity. Your grandparents had a different word for burger-flipping; they called it opportunity.
Rule 6
If you screw up, it's not your parents' fault so don't whine about your mistakes. Learn from them.
Rule 7
Before you were born, your parents weren't as boring as they are now. They got that way paying your bills, cleaning your room, and listening to you tell them how idealistic you are. So before you save the rain forest from the blood-sucking parasites of your parents' generation, try delousing the closet in your own room.
Rule 8
Your school may have done away with winners and losers but life has not. In some schools they have abolished failing grades, they'll give you as many times as you want to get the right answer. This, of course, bears no resemblance to anything in real life.
Rule 9
Life is not divided into semesters. You don't get summers off and very few employers are interested in helping you find yourself. Do that on your own time.
Rule 10
Television is not real life. In real life people actually have to leave the coffee shop and go to jobs.
Rule 11
Be nice to nerds. Chances are you'll end up working for one.
Rule No. 12: Smoking does not make you look cool. It makes you look moronic. Next time you're out cruising, watch an 11-year-old with a butt in his mouth. That's what you look like to anyone over 20. Ditto for "expressing yourself" with purple hair and/or pierced body parts.
Rule No. 13: You are not immortal. (See Rule No. 12.) If you are under the impression that living fast, dying young and leaving a beautiful corpse is romantic, you obviously haven't seen one of your peers at room temperature lately.
Rule No. 14: Enjoy this while you can. Sure parents are a pain, school's a bother, and life is depressing. But someday you'll realize how wonderful it was to be a kid. Maybe you should start now. You're welcome.
Good advice to both high school and college graduates.
Feel free to add a few rules of your own.
Brock
What makes a nation a nation? Is it the borders that enclose and define it? Is it the language or languages spoken by its citizens? Does a specific culture determine nationhood? What makes a nation a sovereign entity or does a nation ever really rise to the level of sovereignty? Perhaps the notion of a nation is simply something we invent in our minds to help us better classify and organize our perception of the world. What makes a nation a nation?
It is true that language, culture, and geographic borders are characteristics of a nation, but characteristics do not a nation make. The Hawaiian Islands have a unique language, culture, and clearly discernable borders, yet they exist as a part of the United States of America, not an independent nation.
Only one thing can give birth to a nation and sustain its existence – Law - clear, enforceable, binding law.
A few years ago a member of my church drove into Mexico in search of shopping deals. As soon as he crossed the border, the Federales stopped him. They politely asked to search his vehicle, and he, being unfamiliar with the laws of Mexico, consented. During their very thorough search they found a small amount of ammunition in the glove compartment of his vehicle (a crime in Mexico). It took him several months to get released from a Mexican prison and return home to his anxious family.
Harsh you say? He broke the law in Mexico, and he suffered the consequences of a clear, enforceable, and binding law. That is what makes a nation a nation.
Another friend of mine was taking pictures of the subway in Moscow, clearly a heinous crime worthy of punishment. A Russian “Barney Fife” wrote him a ticket, and except for the quick talking of my friend’s interpreter, the official would also have taken his camera.
Ridiculous you say? He broke the law in Russia, and was punished by clear, enforceable, and binding law. That is what makes a nation a nation.
In 1994 Michael Fay pleaded guilty to vandalizing cars and stealing road signs in Singapore. He was sentenced to four months in jail, fined 3,500 Singapore dollars, and six strokes with a cane.
Cruel and unusual you say!? He broke the law in Singapore, and was sentenced according to clear, enforceable, and binding law. That is what makes a nation a nation.
Every nation in the world has as system of laws in place that dictate the requirements for entering and leaving its borders. Such laws dictate the required paperwork, points of entry, period of stay, and often include such minute details as the size of the rubber stamp and ink color in the inkpad. Nations that don’t control the movement of foreigners within their borders may soon find themselves in peril. Without those laws would a nation really be a nation?
We need only look to the history of the State of Texas as an example of what can happen if a nation fails to control the influx of foreigners. After winning its independence, Mexico encouraged and allowed organized immigration into Mexican Texas, but in few short years immigrants from the United States greatly outnumbered the Mexicans. This disparity fomented the flames of rebellion within a few short years, and the rebellion soon resulted in the formation of the Republic of Texas. Remember the Alamo? The Mexican nation was unable to enforce its laws in Texas, and a new nation rose up in its place.
We face a similar dilemma.
We as a nation need the “huddled masses” of immigrants. We rely on the influx of both talent and manpower to enrich our nation. Our immigration laws are structured to control that influx. But if our government simply ignores those who defy immigration law, then it is officially aiding and abetting criminals, and will not long stand as a ruling body.
Under the Constitution, our legal system clearly allows for freedom of speech, including speech that runs counter to our own established laws. Therefore, people that are here illegally are free to speak out against the very laws that they are breaking, without consequence. We should not change the law to eliminate freedom of speech.
However, if WE, as a governing body, wish to continue as a nation, WE must enforce our clear and binding immigration laws. If we consider our laws to be inappropriate or unenforceable, then we must work to change them. We cannot simply look the other way and pretend that the law will change. We must not be duped into believing that no consequences will follow our failure to enforce our immigration laws. The rule of OUR law is what makes US a nation.
We face a crossroads as nation, if we wish to remain a nation. Will we enforce our clear and binding immigration law, or will we cease to be a nation?
I recently wrote this small segment as an exercise and wanted to share it. It expresses my personal perceptions of my Grampy, Charles Talley.
A Man of the Earth
I can still remember the smell of the tall green grass as I crawled through the field behind my Grampy’s house. My older brother and I would spend hours stealing through the pasture as we hunted each other with “guns” made from tobacco sticks. They were memorable days, but not as memorable as my Grampy himself.
“You boys put your guns away and come in for dinner,” said Grampy as we crawled out of our own private jungle. He spoke with a deep baritone voice that didn’t match his small frame and seemed to reverberate right through us. It was like hearing the horn of a large truck come from a small car, or the foghorn of a large cruise ship singing out from a tugboat.
I never heard him raise his voice, but then again, he didn’t have to. His voice was accustomed to being obeyed, and willed you to do as he commanded without changing in volume. Its rich, solid tones penetrated you clear to the bone, and took away your will to do anything other than what he directed.
In spite of his commanding voice, he was terse and chose his words carefully. He would engage in deep conversation by listening intently, and then speak a few carefully thought out sentences of substance.
A man of the earth, most summer afternoons you could find Grampy in his beautiful garden tending to the soil and nurturing his tomato plants, green beans, and corn. He loved to make things grow, and would carry the smell of freshly turned soil to the dinner table.
His face was often expressionless, except the eyes. His misty hazel eyes seemed to penetrate and look deep into a problem or a person. They also carried a slight measure of sadness, deposited there by the many hardships he had faced.
He had contracted typhoid fever as a child, and the disease had hindered his growth, leaving him shorter than most men and of small build. He had a slight, almost imperceptible limp or shuffle that resulted from the disease, but his size only disguised his strength and quickness. When we playfully challenged him we would feel his vice-like hands clamping down on a shoulder, or feel the playful slap of his soft palm across our cheek. We would laugh as he utterly manhandled us and gave a resonating chuckle of delight.
Charles Talley, my Grampy, was a rock. He courageously faced the adversities of life without asking for quarter. Even as I stood watching him on his deathbed, I sensed that he was a man of substance, not easily swayed by the winds of calamity. In my mind, I could hear his strong baritone voice calling me to dinner, and smell the green grass and soft moist soil.
Fighter pilots sometimes classify other pilots as follows - There are fighter pilots and pilots that fly fighters. I must admit that after a couple of years in the A-10 I still considered myself the latter. That doesn’t mean I didn’t enjoy flying fighters. I loved the flying immensely. It does mean that I never felt completely worthy to classify myself with the first group.
The other night I was helping my son with a school project about the Cold War and the Berlin Airlift. He shrugged off my suggestions, like he so often does, leaving me feeling a bit rejected. I wanted to shake him and let him know that I was there when the Berlin Wall came down. I had taken a piece of the wall, and bought old East German military trinkets at Brandenburg Gate. So, I went in search of my piece of the wall.
I pulled out some old boxes of memorabilia and started digging. I found all my old Air Force awards officially describing my accomplishments. I found old photos of a younger me daring the world to put me to the test. I was able to share a bit of history with him and bring his assignment to life, but I never found my piece of the wall.
I found some old journals, back from when I kept a regular journal like I should now. As I opened the dusty pages of bad handwriting, I recognized that same self doubt that keeps me from classifying myself with the first group. Line after line of self-effacing emotional drivel. No wonder I never felt adequate. No piece of the wall here.
My kids were a little surprised at my awards and decorations. To them I’m just the guy that goes to work and comes home complaining that the house isn’t clean. They asked why I didn’t hang them all on a wall to show them off. They asked me to explain what I had done to be honored with each one. Each time I simply smiled. No piece of the wall here.
Past personal accomplishments hold little value for me. Today is a new day, and demands new achievements. I would rather be trying and failing today than reliving the few successes of yesterday. Yesterday is just a lost piece of the wall.
Fighter pilots may never classify me as one of their own, but I’m ok with that. Today is a new day.
