Late-Night Curve

At 10 p.m. Tuesday the parking lot was filled and most
tables were taken on the second floor of McCully SC.

At one time there were many Oahu restaurants and bars open late on weeknights. But crime, homelessness, and the lack of street lighting made customers cautious about going out. Demand fell, and it became uneconomic for places to remain open after 9.

However, some locations are proving that prosperity was theirs if they could provide parking and security. One such restaurant cluster is McCully Shopping Center, less than two blocks from my parents' house.

Chow mein from Fook Yuen

There are at least a half-dozen McCully eateries open past midnight. On the nights I walked by there weren't many business people, who were probably in Waikiki less than a mile away, but family-and-friends groups looking for something more than fast food (there is a Taco Bell at McCully SC).

My doctor says I shouldn't eat after 9, but the fact that I hadn't had dinner prompted me to try the noodles at Fook Yuen at 10:30. It was in the name of research, and I just did it once.

Yes, it was very good, but to be honest I am grading on the late-night curve.

So Serious

The Cinerama building is an O'Reilly Auto Parts Store

Cinerama was once the most technologically advanced movie theater in Honolulu with its large curved screen and stereophonic sound--the IMAX of its day.

In the first two years after it opened my parents and uncles took me to see It's a Mad Mad Mad Mad World and How the West Was Won, the latter because my grandfather liked Walter Brennan in TV's the Real McCoys.

(Image from Pinterest)

The last and greatest movie I saw at Cinerama was 2001: A Space Odyssey. I still remember the "profound" after-school discussions we had about the movie, especially the psychedelic ending, when we kicked around eschatology, Übermensch, and the nature of consciousness. We were so serious back then.

Now it's an auto-parts store, as prosaic as it gets. The universe laughs.

You Can't Go Home Again

The American Legion office on McCully Street, a few blocks from Waikiki, is dwarfed by the high rises surrounding it.

The structure is a reminder of the neighborhood as it looked before the War--small single-family dwellings that were outfitted with then-modern conveniences of indoor plumbing, telephones, and electricity.

The high-rise behind the American Legion office was built on the site of Everybody's Supermarket, which closed in 1981.

Spruced up, this house is at least 70 years old.

While working as a stockboy at Everybody's, my brother tried to stop a robbery by grabbing the steering wheel of the getaway car. Thankfully, everyone survived.

He and I walked around the neighborhood last year to check out the changes. Heat, humidity, and termites have taken their toll on the houses, many of which have been replaced by small apartment buildings.

I've grown used to the cooler climes and spaciousness of Northern California. It will be tough to move back to the old neighborhood.

Happier Outcome

One of the items on my shopping list was kaki mochi, aka arare, a popular Hawaiian shoyu rice cracker that your humble blogger ate even before he tasted his first potato chip.

A large kaki mochi selection may be found at CVS. Though Long's Drugs was acquired by CVS ten years ago, CVS/Long's has retained its Hawaiian sensibilities, which means a large inventory of local foods.

When I texted the picture (above right) to the household member who requested two packages of crackers, she noted that the 4-for-$7 sale was too good to pass up. So I bought four, which were added to the food and Christmas presents from three other parties for me to take home.

Texting pictures before making a purchase makes for better decision-making and a happier outcome, though not necessarily for the person having to execute the decision.

Accountants: No Respect

From "Mingle All the Way"

Her daughter wants to be an entrepreneur, but the Lindsay Wagner mother character wants her to choose a steady, reliable career.

Hey, Lindsay, you didn't play it safe when you were young.

Even the Hallmark Channel says accountants are boring. Ouch.

Peanuts Were the Clue

Times sells 1 lb. raw
peanuts for under $5.

Having bought all the ingredients, I told Mom that I would be making oxtail stew for Sunday's potluck dinner.

She asked if I could add peanuts. What that meant, in Mom-speak, is that she wanted oxtail soup, not stew.

And so it was that I spent over an hour Saturday hand-shelling raw peanuts. Betcha never said that about your Hawaiian vacation, dear reader.

The soup simmered overnight, which I delivered Sunday morning. Mom was grateful, but next time I'm going to Zippy's.

 

Next time I'm going to Zippy's

Ingredients: salt, oxtail, peanuts, ginger, anise

Attendance Was Down

One of the purposes of this trip was to see how my parents were acclimatizing to assisted living.

Most nights I stayed at their now-vacant home in the McCully Moiliili area of Honolulu and drove to their Hawaii Kai apartment every day.

I went to see them early Sunday morning but should have gone in the afternoon.

Using the Marathon as an excuse,
worshippers stayed home from this
Kaimuki church, leaving more food for me.

The Honolulu Marathon shunted the traffic to local roads, then detoured eastbound traffic to a single lane on the westbound side of Kalanianaole Highway. We crept along at 25-30 mph, confused about whether to obey the traffic signals, not all of which were visible in the direction we were going. Like the kids do on social media, I just did what everybody else was doing and barreled through some of the red lights.

About halfway to Hawaii Kai I saw the lead runner returning to downtown Honolulu.

After visiting my parents for an hour, I drove back home with gaggles of marathoners still headed east. No mockery here---if I ever tried to run a marathon they're faster than I would be.

Feeling Chipper

Now that I'm in Honolulu it was an opportune time to visit Mom's brother-in-law, Uncle Joe, and Mom's cousin, Aunt Ellen Jean. Both turned 90 the past year and are in declining health (which is better than some alternatives).

Uncle Joe often ignores well-meaning advice.

The wet Manoa weather had finally rotted the front of his house to the extent that it couldn't be patched. It took three months to repair, but Uncle Joe's picture windows are looking fine, as does the owner.

He does need a home-health aide to get around, but when I saw him on Friday he was chipper.

After four hours of conversation, including dinner, I was fatigued and had to leave.

Auntie Jeannie was in the hospital. Franklin, her nephew (Jeannie never married and has no children), informed us that she had fallen and was in a coma.

Her nose and mouth were outfitted with breathing tubes, so I had a trapped audience as I prattled about the past. I talked about how much I enjoyed going to her parents' house in Kapahulu back in the Sixties. There was always a poker game going in the back patio; grand uncle John would have a whiskey in one hand and a cigar in the other. Grand aunt Bertha was always smiling and laughing and pushing food at me. Bertha and her sister, my grandmother Sarah, could chat for hours.

Jeannie’s eyelids fluttered, a good sign, and the nurses told me that she was awake and listening.

An hour later the doctors said that she could breathe on her own, and they removed the tubes. Color came back to her cheeks. I called Mom on FaceTime, and she spoke to her cousin at length. (I had an ulterior motive for the video call; without it Mom would have interrogated me at length about Jeannie's appearance, so I saved myself a half an hour of uncomfortable questioning by my mother---is there any other kind?)

Franklin called the next morning to say that the hospital had moved her out of intensive care. That was good news; unlike last time I won't let three years pass before seeing her again.

The Best $130 I Ever Spent

I bought paper, extra ink, and a stapler, too

A small task regarding my Hawaiian family's financial matters expanded into a project with lots of scanning, copying and e-mailing. Sure, I could have spent my vacation at FedEx/Kinko's or prevailed upon one of my brothers to use his office after hours, but the convenient, economical choice was to buy my own.

The all-in-one HP 8715 inkjet printer ($130 on sale at Costco) fit the bill. It could even scan up to 50 pages at a time--not perfectly, because the feeder often grabbed more than one page--but it worked often enough to save hours over my one-at-a-time scanner back home.

When I'm done, I'll turn the printer over to Dad, who needs a copier anyway.

Family Reunion

Cousins Flora and Al.

I go to more of these every year...two days after getting off the plane we attended the memorial service for my father's first cousin, Margaret Choy Lan Ching.

I didn't talk much with Auntie Lani when I was a kid. I played outside with her son Dexter and second cousins--some by blood and some by marriage--Leonard, Erwin and Carleton. Children back then were expected to stay in their own worlds; adults couldn't be bothered by us, and we were fine with that.

I was able to identify all of them by sight (and they me) after 45 years on the Mainland. I didn't recognize or even know the dozens of people who came from later generations.

Lani seems to have led the retired life that I would be happy to have:

She retired from [First Hawaiian Bank] in 1985.

After retirement she enjoyed ballroom dancing and traveling to many countries. She was also an avid golfer and when she accompanied [late husband] Ed on their many Vegas trips, she would play the penny slot machines. When not gambling in Vegas, she followed the stock market. Marge was never idle, her hobbies were cooking, crafting, and quilting. In her later years she and Ed played mah jong, and she also formed a mah jong club at her last residence, The Plaza at Punchbowl.

More importantly, she leaves behind and derived much enjoyment from her five children and nearly two dozen grandchildren and great-grandchildren. She was 93.

30 minutes before the service the room started to fill up.

Welcome Addition

On my first night back I strolled the old neighborhood.

Having walked home from school for four years, I once knew every house and car. It was still familiar, with the primary changes being the replacement of single-family homes by apartment buildings. The total lack of street parking results in cars overflowing sidewalks and encroaching on corners and fire hydrants.

One welcome addition is the office of the Sons and Daughters of the 442nd Regimental Combat Team (RCT) in 1993, one block off King Street. Back in the 1960's everyone in Hawaii knew about the 442nd. Made up of young first-generation Japanese men (Nisei), many of whose families were in the internment camps, the 442nd became the most decorated unit in U.S. military history. Its soldiers were awarded 21 Medals of Honor and 9,486 Purple Hearts.

The RCT's complement of 4,000 men turned over twice because of combat casualties, yet there was no shortage of Nisei volunteers.

These young men had every reason to be bitter--perhaps some were--but their deeds surpassed many who experienced no injustice. To this day their choices and accomplishments inspire awe.

Guy, Feeling Better

Another thing that I had to do before going on the trip was to descale the tankless water heater.

The task was simple enough---running a vinegar solution through the pipes--but it did involve buying a couple of gallons of vinegar, taking the pump out of storage, and remembering which valves to turn off and which to turn on.

The latter was the most difficult step, as the pump strained furiously without result until I opened a drain and the vinegar circulated through the heater and back into the bucket.

Even after watching YouTube videos (that don't match the situation exactly), it's not easy working out how to do something after three years.

After letting the pump run for an hour, I disconnected the hoses, rinsed off everything, and made sure the hot water was coming through various faucets--yes, the flow was stronger.

Maybe I'll do this again next year, like I was supposed to. Doing things with pumps, hoses, and wrenches--dare I say it in this day and age--makes this CIS male feel better.

Unfinished Business

Old filter and fading UV lights

Before another trip to the Islands I had to attend to chores over which I had been procrastinating.

The furnace filter, which should be replaced annually, was overdue for a change because of the smoke from the Camp Fire that began on November 8th.

The kit ($179 from Amazon) included ultraviolet light bulbs and a catalyst screen that killed germs as the air passed through the apparatus.

Clear filter, clear conscience.

I'm not sure I believe them, but it wouldn't be the first or last time that I bought a product because of its unproven health advantages.

Before one starts a journey, one should take care of unfinished business.

Not the Enemy

Psychologists believe that they can explain kindness and altruism through evolution: [bold added]

Research suggests that one fundamental reason people are altruistic is to make themselves attractive to sexual partners. In a large-scale cross-cultural study of qualities found attractive in mates, published in the Journal of Cross-Cultural Psychology in 1990, David Buss and colleagues asked young adults across the globe to rate how important various attributes were in long-term mates. Across a broad range of cultures, they found that kindness placed toward the top of the list. Mate preferences are a very strong evolutionary force, so if people prefer kindness in mates, kindness will become a common attribute in the species. This is one reason why there are so many good people.

(Image from medium.com)

There also is an evolutionary explanation for evil ("behavior that other people find objectionable and even hateful"). But before they could explain how these behaviors emerged, the social scientists had to define them; appropriately, they're known as the "dark triad":

narcissism (an excessive focus on oneself), Machiavellianism (manipulating others for one’s own gain), and psychopathy (an overall disregard for others).

Wood frogs make like the birds and bees (music of nature)

The writer hypothesizes that the dark triad is an adaptation similar to that of weaker male wood frogs who are trying to reproduce:

Once a female wood frog approaches, the male tries to mount her, while she tries to shake him off. This is a way of selecting for larger mates, since if the male is large enough, it is harder for her to dislodge him.

This preference leaves smaller male wood frogs in a pickle because they can’t stay mounted on the female. So these males have evolved an alternative strategy: They hang out near a large, dominant male as he calls out for females. When a female comes by and releases her eggs—in wood frogs, fertilization takes place outside the body—the satellite male will try to quickly enter the picture and fertilize them with his sperm.

In the wood-frog mating system, then, we see two very different behavioral strategies, each of which can achieve reproductive success. Smaller male frogs face obstacles to mating, forcing them to use an aggressive or “fast” mating strategy, while larger frogs have the luxury of using a safer, “slower” mating strategy.

Objections are immediately apparent if we try to analogize wood frogs to humans: 1) not every physically weak male is a psychopathic Machiavellian narcissist; 2) why do some women evince dark triad behavior? 3) if a "stressful, harsh, or unstable child-parent relationship" is the trigger--as one theory goes--why do some people who come from a stable family (their siblings turned out all right) become evil?

This is yet another example of a thesis that one's destiny is determined by genes, the environment, or both in combination. Your humble blogger doesn't disparage these explanatory efforts, however, for knowledge of our feelings enables us to control them, and knowledge enhances free will, not destroys it.

GHWB: A Man of Character

George and Barbara, 1960's (WSJ photo)

George H.W. Bush's death last night was another reminder that the greatest generation has all but passed from the scene. Mr. Bush was the last American president to serve in World War II. Presidents Eisenhower, Kennedy, Johnson, Nixon, Ford, Carter, Reagan, and Bush all wore the uniform.

Much has been made of the loss of civility in politics after the senior President Bush departed office.

Navy Lt. George Bush (Time)

I suspect that much of the "civility" was derived from the realization by these Presidents that today's political opponents were yesterday's allies in the life-and-death struggle that was WWII. Those who fought share an unbreakable bond with each other and with those who never came back.

Another oft-remarked element of World War II was that everyone served, from the richest blue bloods to the poorest farmers and inner-city workers. On the battlefield, if you're focused on racial or religious or class distinctions, you're dead. George Bush, perhaps influenced by his wartime experience and unlike some members of his class and heritage, never looked down on anyone.

Of all of his characteristics the one that struck me the most is how he would hand-write personal notes to everyone, many of whom he don't know personally. One of the busiest men in the world would take the time for others who couldn't possibly be of any help to him. R.I.P.