Zippy's

I'm only frustrating myself when I open
the App in Zippy-less California.

It's not gourmet, but it serves local favorites late into the evening and when it opens at 6 a.m. [bold added]

The takeout and dine-in menu is large and varied — with everything from spaghetti to plate lunches, chili and burgers — and regulars usually have a go-to dish.

Bruno Mars’ favorite is the “Korean chicken plate with a small chili with rice,” according to a 50th anniversary publication. Jason Momoa recently proclaimed Zippy’s has the “best fried chicken in the world.” Former President Barack Obama likes the Zip Min, a bowl of saimin with wontons, char siu, fish cake and breaded shrimp.

I usually order the Zip Pac, containing one piece of fried chicken, Spam, breaded fish and a slice of marinated teriyaki beef over furikake-seasoned rice.

There are two Zippy's--one next to my father's high school, McKinley, and one on Kapahulu Ave.--within walking distance of my parent's home. I go to Zippy's two or three times on each trip home. It's time to book a flight.....

Happy 102nd, Helen

Mother's Day, 2025

This evening we called to sing Happy Birthday to Helen to celebrate her 102nd birthday.

She said that it was a beautiful day in Honolulu, and we responded that the Bay Area was beautiful, too. It's been a cool summer, and air conditioning has been unnecessary in Foster City.

From her balcony on the hills above the University of Hawaii campus Helen likes to watch the planes take off.

Lately she's been humming Blue Skies, Irving Berlin's 1926 hit. She was delighted when we sang it to her over the phone, out of tune but with enthusiasm. At 102 very simple things give her pleasure.

Below is a nice rendition of Blue Skies by Norah Jones and Seth MacFarlane.

Lei Day 2025

May Day is lei day in Hawaii
Flowers and garlands everywhere…

The prizewinner (Star Advertiser)

While May Day was marked by angry protests on the Mainland, thousands assembled joyfully at Kapiolani Park.

The Mayor’s Grand Prize at this year’s 97th Lei Day Celebration in Honolulu went to Dale Mar T. Acoba.

Acoba wowed judges Thursday with his white lei kui made of hypericum and pearl yarrow, and took home the prize of $5,400. The city also named winners in 14 other lei categories.

Thousands of visitors flocked to Kapiolani Park in Waikiki for the annual celebration, which included the lei competition exhibit, along with music, hula performances by various halau, cultural demonstrations, and a local craft market.

The theme of this year’s celebration was Ho’okahi ka ‘ilau like ‘ana, meaning “wield the paddles together.”

The competition drew 137 entries in various categories based on the lei-maker’s age, lei style, color, and materials, according to city officials.

Following protocol, the fresh lei from the contest were taken to Mauna ‘Ala, or The Royal Mausoleum, and Kawaiaha‘o Church this morning, and placed on the graves and tombs of Hawaii’s alii.

Hawaii does May Day better.

Mom's Memorial Service

Yesterday was the Memorial Service for my mother, Doreen Yuen, who passed away at the age of 95 in December.

As with my father's ceremony in 2019, the sacrament of Holy Communion was held at Honolulu's St. Peter's Episcopal, the church she had attended all her life. Mom's service was livestreamed on YouTube, with relatives tuning in from Australia and the U.S. Mainland.

My brothers and I forsook a lengthy eulogy, and several speakers told stories about Mom. The length of the service was about an hour, and the crowd retired to the Parish Hall for lunch and fellowship while our family placed her urn next to Dad. Everyone seemed to enjoy the celebration of her life.

Her obituary is after the break.

Loco Moco in San Bruno

The DHGS loco moco (Yelp photo)

The basic loco moco --rice, burger patty, gravy, and fried eggs--is a simple dish that's on the menu of nearly every Island restaurant, from plate lunch take-out to fancy hotel dining rooms. A good loco moco is distinguished by quality ingredients and a rich, seasoned brown gravy, and we had not found one in the Bay Area until today.

The Diamond Head General Store is a small Hawaiian-themed store and restaurant on El Camino Real in San Bruno, several blocks south of San Bruno Avenue.

The shelves were stocked with snacks and foods (for example, Spam) that are favorites with the people back home. We bought a few items, but the main reason we were there was to order from the restaurant. In addition to the loco moco ($19)--which I liked but others found a little too peppery--we tried the mochiko chicken ($18), which was excellent. The mochiko flour gives the fried chicken crust a distinctive sweetness, and I'm surprised mochiko chicken's popularity hasn't spread beyond Hawaii.

Portions were generous, and there were enough leftovers to supply lunch or dinner the next day. We'll be back.

Pearl Harbor: Receding into History

Last year's Pearl Harbor Day post was about Lou Conter, the last survivor of the USS Arizona. Lou Conter died last spring.

Conter died Monday morning [April 1, 2024] at his home in Grass Valley, Calif., according to his daughter Louann Daley.

Born in Ojibwa, Wis., in 1921, Conter was 20 years old when the USS Arizona was bombed by Japanese forces at Pearl Harbor on Dec. 7, 1941.

The USS Arizona’s bombing was the deadliest of the attacks that day, killing 1,177 people—nearly half of the 2,403 who died during Pearl Harbor. Conter was one of just 334 people assigned to the USS Arizona who survived.

Conter escaped the burning wreckage. As he and others guided crew members to safety, “more often than not, their burned skin would come off on our hands,” he wrote in his 2021 memoir, “The Lou Conter Story.”

“It was horrible,” he wrote. “Absolutely horrible.”

Despite his work that day, he said he didn’t want to be called a hero.

“I consider the heroes the ones that gave their lives, that never came home to their families,” Conter said in an interview with The Wall Street Journal last year. “They’re the real heroes.”

...He got his pilot wings in November 1942, and was part of a team that flew Black Cat aircraft overnight doing bomb runs in the South Pacific, Conter said. He was shot down twice, once in September 1943 and a second time three months later. Both times, Conter said, he used a lifeboat to get to shore.

After World War II ended, he returned to California and signed up for the reserves. In the early 1950s, he served again in the Korean War.

Conter retired from the Navy in 1967 as a lieutenant commander and became a real-estate developer in California.

Pearl Harbor is nearly as remote from today's children as was the Civil War from the first Baby Boomers. We grew up in a world where the deeds of "ordinary" men like Lou Conter were taken for granted. Now such strength of character seems uncommon, and its prevalence in the World War II generation impossible to imagine. R.I.P.

Chicken Feet

While shopping at 99 Ranch I passed the display of chicken "paws." The price was $5.49 per pound, and no, I didn't buy any.

My paternal grandmother used to get chicken feet free from the Honolulu Chinatown butchers. When one has to feed nine kids, no part of the animal is wasted.

Grandmother had several go-to recipes. What they all had in common was long hours of cooking. The feet are tough and require heat over an extended period to break down the cartilage.

My father never lost his childhood fondness for chicken feet and would always order a dish at dim sum restaurants. Nostalgia can be a powerful motivator.

Willie Mays (1931-2024)

(SF Chronicle photo)

Willie Mays has died at the age of 93. Rather than do what hundreds of others have done in reciting the statistics that show his greatness or tracing a career that began in the Negro leagues, I'll just provide a (free) link to the Chronicle's obituary. Several of its sportswriters also chipped in with separate articles about what Willie meant to them.

I had become a baseball fan in the early 1960's when my grand-uncle Fred (the owner of Buck's sweet bread), bought season tickets behind home plate for the Triple-A Hawaii Islanders. He often gave tickets to my father and me to the games at Honolulu Stadium (aka the "Termite Palace"), which was only a quarter of a mile from our house.

Another catalyst for my interest was the chase after Babe Ruth's home run record of 60 in a season by Yankees Roger Maris and Mickey Mantle in 1961. I devoured every baseball article in the morning Advertiser and the evening Star-Bulletin. I learned about all the stars in the game, and none were greater than Willie Mays.

I did get to see him and the San Francisco Giants play in the summer of 1962, thanks to my uncle who was the best mechanic I ever knew. He invited me to stay with him over the summer at his home in San Bernardino.

One night he took me to Dodger Stadium, whose four decks dwarfed the Termite Palace back home. But the real difference was in the players. Even from our distant seats along the right-field foul line, I could sense the power in just the practice swings by Giants Orlando Cepeda, Willie McCovey, and Willie Mays. I don't remember the specific batting statistics from the game, although the Dodgers did win because their outstanding pitching staff got the better of the Giants.

I did see enough to realize that both the Dodgers and Giants played on a different plane from the Islanders. Baseball is the one professional sport, IMHO from watching film clips, where the stars from a half-century ago can compete with the stars of today. Willie Mays was the greatest player in history during his time, and according to many baseball fans, sportswriters, and players he retains that title 51 years after his retirement. R.I.P.

Memorial Day, 2024

Dad, near Tokyo in 1945

On this Memorial Day my thoughts turn to my father and his five brothers who wore the uniform during and after World War II.

They were raised in a dirt-poor household of nine children in early 20th-century Honolulu and were expected to help out with family finances after high school. World War II disrupted everyone's plans, but they all answered the call--some were drafted and others enlisted--but it was inconceivable that they wouldn't.

After the war, two went on to college, and all of them led "normal" lives--raising families, buying a house, and retiring in modest comfort.

They all live in my memory, and my appreciation for them has grown mightily over the years.

May you, dear reader, only have good memories today.

May Day = Lei Day

Even less well known these days than the May 1st celebration of International Workers Day is the tradition of Lei Day in Hawaii.

The 95th Lei Court attended today's official ceremonies in Honolulu.

Here's a partial reprise of my original 2010 post about Lei Day:

May Day is lei day in Hawaii
Flowers and garlands everywhere…

Leis can be simple or elaborate, multi- or mono-colored, expensive or free as the flowers from one’s own back yard. They are given at birthdays, airports, weddings, graduations, banquets, holidays, or sometimes just because. They are given freely without expectation of reciprocation, often to people that one has never met before. There’s supposed to be no lasting commitment—the flowers fade quickly even in a fridge; the receipt of a lei therefore usually “means” little. But sometimes we remember the occasions forever.

A lei is granted with a kiss. Many young boys, grimacing, receive their first kiss from a non-family member when receiving a lei. Later, for the cost of a few flowers it’s a good pretext for a young adolescent male to peck the cheek of a girl he’s long admired (if your mother made the lei, don’t tell the girls, they feel funny when you say that).

When I was growing up, every woman in Hawaii knew how to string a lei. It’s far from a lost art, but fewer people take the trouble now, much like baking bread or writing a letter by hand. But I’m not lamenting days that are gone, rather I’m happy that the tradition of Lei Day is continuing and appears to be getting stronger. Frankly, if I may say so, I prefer Hawaii’s version of May Day to the other ones.

Keep Telling Yourself It's the Safest Way to Travel

My brother's flight from Los Angeles to Honolulu on Thursday was delayed by a stuck door handle. The pilot announced that the problem was "fixed" and the United Boeing flight went on to Honolulu.

Normally I wouldn't have given the matter a second thought but for the spate of recent headlines:

February 6: Boeing 737 MAX Missing Critical Bolts in Alaska Airlines Blowout, NTSB Says

April 9: Boeing Engineer Says Company Used Shortcuts to Fix 787 Jets

April 17: Boeing’s Quality Complaints Mount as Another Whistleblower Comes Forward

We all were relieved when brother landed safely.

For the first time in my life, I'll check the price of flight insurance the next time I take a Boeing flight.

Round and Round We Go

Slowing the traffic in the old neighborhood.

I encountered my first traffic roundabout in New England over 50 years ago. Navigating it was intuitive because it was a single-lane circle, and all cars had to make a right turn to enter. It wasn't obvious who had to yield to whom, but because the roundabout slowed everyone down, there were usually no accidents, and those that did occur were at low speeds.

Traffic circles have become so ubiquitous that there's even a simple one five blocks from my parents' home in Honolulu. It was installed in 2021, probably to slow the cars headed to Waiola Shave Ice.

Intersection of Hwys 156 and 25 in Gilroy (Merc)

The traffic engineers may have pushed a good thing too far with the installation of a "turbo" roundabout, whose rules are hard to learn when driving a car at highway speeds. [bold added]

When drivers first crossed this particular roadway in San Benito County last February, they encountered an intersection never before seen in California — a multi-lane “turbo roundabout” shaped like a cartoon hurricane.

And, while the turbo roundabout has a history of making intersections safer throughout Europe, here the Scandinavian rotary has led to confusion among some drivers who have been seen entering the intersection backward, hopping over lane dividers, and cutting through yield signs...

In the weeks following the opening of the roundabout, the intersection saw crashes at more than three times the rate than the year before it was built — jumping from about one accident approximately every eight days to one accident every two and a half days, on average...

But despite the spike in incidents, officials and experts said they are confident this is all part of a “learning curve” that often happens with new roundabouts, and point out that deaths and serious injuries have dropped to zero since the new intersection was completed.

Californians view themselves as smarter than people who live in the rest of the country. This is a real-world test of that hypothesis.

Off-Islander Goes Local, Returns Home, Makes Good

The dorms that are occupied mostly by Mainland
students have expanded a lot since 1970.

When we went to the Mainland for school, we used to joke about the Mainland kids who came in the other direction. The University of Hawaii was a decent college at the time but wasn't renowned in any field of study (except oceanography and bioscience) so we knew what these kids were likely doing here. Overwhelmingly white and upper-middle class (room and board wasn't cheap), they were in Hawaii to have a good time.

Somehow they had sweet-talked their parents to send them across the Pacific and learn the rigors of independent living in a campus where the beach was a mile away.

Whether or not Scott Swift had similar motivations is unclear. He traveled 5,000 miles to spend his freshman year playing Rainbow football.

Scott Swift’s collegiate football career was brief. The lanky teenager from Pennsylvania transferred to a school closer to home after one season and attended the University of Delaware before becoming a successful wealth manager.

Scott and his daughter Taylor in 2015 (Miller/WSJ)

When Scott Swift was in Hawaii, Al Michaels ("do you believe in miracles?") was a young broadcaster who did the radio for UH sports. Scott Swift calls the presence of Al Michaels his "first brush with fame." Unfortunately, Al Michaels did not remember him.

His second brush with fame has lasted nearly two decades and is still continuing. This time the famous person he knows doesn't have to be reminded who he is.

Scott Swift joins the list of Mainlanders (e.g. actor Beau Bridges and talk-show host Michael Savage) who attended the UH and struck gold later in life. So parents, don't discount their pleadings: it might not be for everyone, but the University of Hawaii may provide just the education your son or daughter needs.

Upper Arlington High School Orchestras

On one of my visits to the Ala Moana Shopping Center last month, I stopped to listen to the Upper Arlington High School (Ohio) orchestras. Their intonation was good, they watched the conductor assiduously, and half the string players had decent vibrato.

After the second orchestra took the stage, I asked one parent (she was wearing one of the UAHS aloha shirts) whether there was any difference between the two. She said that both were equally talented, which is something I would say if I were in her place. It turned out that the first was a full orchestra with brass and woodwinds, while the second was all strings. For my money, the latter seemed more skilled but I'm biased because my instrument was the violin.

Both orchestras ended with a patriotic medley bookended by the usual standards America the Beautiful and the Star-Spangled Banner. When I was a kid (hey boomer), everyone stood when the national anthem was played, but on this day no one budged from the chairs. To be fair, most of the seated were elderly, and some looked like they could be foreign visitors. Nevertheless, in today's America accepted cultural understandings are exceedingly rare, as are excellent public high school orchestras.

Hanging Out at Ala Moana

Sign on the top floor above the stage

I made more visits to the Ala Moana Shopping Center than I usually do.

The first trip was for the purpose of making a tax payment at the City Hall Satellite Office; the second was to have dinner at one of the over-100(!) restaurants; the third was to pick up some knick-knacks to take home.

I get the appeal of hanging out at Ala Moana. I know some retirees whose daily routine is to walk and/or swim at Ala Moana beach park across the street, which has plenty of parking and isn't crowded on weekday mornings, then have lunch and chat with white-haired contemporaries at the shopping center.

Moderate exercise, sunshine, and socializing in person are a pleasant way to spend one's golden years, as well as add years to one's life. By the way, did you know that Hawaii is the state with the highest life expectancy?

Go for It

Cantonese restaurants have a better chance of surviving in Hawaii than in California, where tastes have moved toward dishes favored by the Mandarin-speaking immigration wave from the Mainland and Taiwan.

Modern palates also look askance at the traditionally heavy use of soy, sugar and cornstarch, but I say go for it when you're on vacation. You won't find noodles like this in the hoity-toity Bay Area.

I took home half the dish for tomorrow's consumption. I'm enthusiastic but not crazy.

On Kalakaua Avenue

A stroll along Waikiki's tony Kalakaua Avenue is helpful in determining what's trendy. Case in point: Hemptuary, a clever portmanteau that combines "hemp" and "sanctuary."

Marijuana cannot yet be sold legally for recreational purposes in Hawaii, but it is permitted for medical use. If a patient has at least one of ten "qualifying debilitating medical condition[s]" (e.g. cancer, ALS (Lou Gehrig's disease), MS) he may receive a prescription for cannabis. Hemptuary has doctors at the ready to help a patient get a qualifying "329 card" and issue a prescription to said patient.

In related news Senate Bill 3335 is wending its way through Hawaii's Senate Committees. If it becomes law, recreational use for adults can begin on January 1, 2026, upon which strolls along Kalakaua Avenue will become positively uplifting.

City Hall Satellite Office

19 years ago it was just a small retail space tucked in the basement of Ala Moana Shopping Center. There was so little foot traffic that the City of Honolulu sold T-shirts, coffee mugs, and other tchotchkes to attract passersby.

Yesterday I had to make an in-person tax payment and walked by it, thinking it was a popular restaurant; there was a lady behind a maitre d' stand who appeared to be taking reservations. At the end of the sidewalk was Macy's, so I back-tracked and took another look.

The Honolulu City Hall Satellite Office has grown from its humble confines to a space equal to the major banks. In fact, it looks like a bank with eight (8) teller stations behind bullet proof glass.

After my business concluded efficiently, I asked the appointment lady where I could buy a City of Honolulu cap. Sorry, we don't sell those things any more. That's progress.

Moving the Problem Around

Stadium Park: it's beautiful. Too bad you can't see it.

Thirteen years ago there was a homeless encampment in Stadium Park.

Five years ago the tents had been cleared.

Today they're back, not in the park itself but along the entire length of the South King Street sidewalk.

The homeless can't set up in Waikiki--heaven forbid the tourists get a false impression of our Island paradise--and as long as they don't encamp next to homes and apartments the cops will let them stay a while. However, nearby residences will have to put up with sleepers in their carports, home burglaries, upended trash cans, and the occasional tapping into outdoor power outlets.

Eventually the tents will be forced to move so that one neighborhood doesn't bear the entire burden. By moving the problem around people may think it's being solved.

Till We Meet Again

Administering communion to shut-ins is an
important, often unappreciated, responsibility.

There were many reasons for going to Hawaii this week--to be with older relatives for the Lunar New Year, prepare Mom's tax return, get warm--but none was more important than saying goodbye to Pastor Diane Martinson, who has been rector of my home parish, St. Peter's Episcopal, since 2013.

Being the rector of a church is nearly impossible to do well. One must be an excellent multi-tasker, a "boss" leader when direction is called for, an empathetic listener, an inspirational public speaker to a multi-generational audience, an organizer of volunteers who often can't be relied upon, a regular minister to shut-ins (a duty not widely appreciated), and an upbeat fund-raiser.

One of the few agreed-upon measures of "success" in a religious organization is growth in membership, and while attendance was tentative when she started, growth has accelerated in the past three years. She is leaving us just as she is hitting her stride, but the principal reason is understandable. She is returning to the freezing Midwest to take care of infirm relatives.

I waited in line to talk to her after the service and thanked her for her ministry to my parents and to the church. She said her decision to leave was agonizing but one that she had to make. All one can do at that point in the conversation is to set aside the effect on ourselves and offer her support and best wishes.

Later I spoke to a second cousin who has been on several rector searches. He is not relishing the prospect of trying to replace Pastor Diane. Speaking from experience, I agreed.