day 8-a quest for endurances

There are certain things in this world that cannot be, or would take a real effort to be destroyed.
One of such things is Dirty Ryan's special sock. We think, that due to his supernatural nature of his libido, that his superpower would be a ability to be anywhere at anytime. Yesterday, opon parking at the Pig & Whistle in SF, we found a special sock by by tire. Today we decided to head south near Santa Cruz to Big Basin State Park, a place I hadn't been in almost 17 years, if that.
We drove through the sleepy towns of Monte Sereno and Saratoga, where the average life speed is stuck in first gear. Up the windy and Dramamine pill popping highway 9 into the forest choked hills of the Santa Cruz mountains. For 23 miles I tested my driving skills on a nearly one lane road. Some skills you just never forget. We stopped for a rest stop in back of a lucky tree that needed watering and what do we find behind the rear of the truck??? The exact same Dirty Ryan sock. We just accepted the fact that Ryan was going to be with us in spirit on this trip as he worked his current life in Japan.




















(dirty Ryan joined us today)

We Got to the park after a long windy road and arrived to a pleasingly slow Monday morning at the park. Only a few cars, and no campers which meant the park was pretty much empty. We went inside the main cabin, got a $3 park map and the fanny pack mafia hit the trails to semperverius falls.




















(pointing to roughly the spot I was born-center of the tree states birth at 544 AD)


The hike was an easy 4 miles through a plethora of redwoods, most of which were wider than my truck and older than time itself. After about a little under an hour and one pit stop later, we arrived at the falls to relax for a few minutes.


























(Our destination point)




















We hiked back and settled in for a long drive up the California coast to Half Moon Bay.
We dumped out in Santa Cruz and headed north along a very rare crystal clear and windless coast this afternoon.





















We got into Half Moon Bay and got a quick cup of fresh chowder and hand battered calamari before heading back to home. Picking up a pizza for Mom and Dad in Woodside, we got back and joined then for a very light dinner. We were stuffed and relaxed. Around 8 we headed out for the night to see what mischief we could muster.
Clooney's in San Carlos was our first stop for a beer. There was a group of youngins wannabe representing their parents trust funds there all ghetto style. A pool shark showed up and started nervously schooling one of them. We decided to leave before it got too drunk and comical. We walked up to Orchid room and had one more. It felt more like a bar should be, dark, smokey, barflys abound, cheap booze. We sought after more entertainment so we headed south. Apparently Mondays are not good times for places to be open...even the Taco Bell closed early.
We Settled on the Saddle Room in Redwood City. We had a drink and a shot and craved food outside of the typical fast food crap. The irony was that we hit up a place that I worked across from at the ice cream store in Menlo Park-The Dutch Goose.
Aged well, peanut shells on the floor, tables carved into oblivion, video games, cold beer and damn good bacon cheeseburgers with extra pickles. One small pitcher and a few games of old school street fighter later, we headed up to Sharon Park to chat for a bit. It was dark and isolated lakefront park, but open the door for more welcome conversation. We talked there for a while discussing the intricacies of modern and past manhood touchstones before heading home on the onset of being able to see one's breath.
At home, a slice of leftover pizza and a bed awaited both midnight warriors.

Cold goodbyes

Today was my last full day in the RWC before I fly back to reality and my job (a place I call Phoenix) at noon on Friday.

It was a quiet day today. No cold wind freezing your face, instead a calm and lethargic chill. The clouds had moved in, and the sky was a offshore grey, as if we were someone's pet bird who's owner had tossed over a blanket on our cage to quell us. Nothing was really active, winter had officially arrived and things were hunkered down for the season.

I got up surprisingly early at 9, before my parents, which is a complete anomaly, and started to make breakfast. I made a hearty egg scramble for dad and I before getting on the cell and calling my bank card company to resolve a miss cashed check. They said that it would be fixed, but I have yet to see the results...I guess I'll wait a full business day to see.

After that, Dad and I took a long walk and ended up going though my old high school. We were so wound up talking bout some family history, his health and relatives long gone that I pretty much failed to look around at my old, but changed surroundings.

We stopped once more at my Godfathers house, talked to my Godmother for a few and then picked up my old computer which my Godfather fixed for my parents to use. I suppose I failed to see the true logistics of hand carrying a 40 lb, awkward shaped CPU cased unit on foot, at a slow pace for my father, for over 1 1/2 miles. I managed, without having to stop, to lug it back home. It was easy after the first 3/4 mile as in I ceased to feel pain in my arms and fingers to to them going numb.

My Godfather did a great job, and it worked better than before. It was just a matter of trying to hookup Internet access.

Around 3 I drove to Fry's electronics in Palo Alto to look for essential parts.

Picked up essential parts.

Installed parts.

One part no work.

Drive back to Fry's after dinner.

Return parts, buy new ones.

Install new parts.

Parts work, but still no Internet.

4 hours of work with no results.

Marc says hell with it, and will fix when in town next time. Until then, my Godfather and Dad can tinker with it and try to fix it. I think I'm just missing a router.

To add to it, on the way home (the second time), it started to rain. I honestly didn't care, because it started to rain after I got in my car from picking up a bag of Chuck's donuts.

There really is 2 things in this world I really love. Chuck, and his goddamn donuts. Plain glazed of course, but his other flavors are quite orgasmic. Blissful enough that when I die, I want to be re-incarnated as a donut from Chuck, because its as close to Heaven as I can imagine.

Well, that and being a Chuck's donut on a solitary beach in Hawaii at sunset...with 100 nekkid supermodels...now I'm fantasising.

The slow rain came, soaking everything. I spent the rest of the night quietly in the living room with Mom and Dad watching some oddball movie til we all went to bed around 11.

I laid in bed with a long forgotten comfort from the past, a slow rain draining off the roof, and down the metal gutter, resounding as a natural metronome, drop by drop,

dunk..dunk..dunk..dunk..dunk..dunk..dunk.....

Godspeed- a prosperous journey

A few pictures from the past day and a half, the rest will be on shutterfly once I arrive back in PHX. You can click on the pictures to zoom.





















Bounty Hunter and Bite Me
Pillar Point Harbor
Half Moon Bay 12/07

























Pulgas Temple
12/07


































"American Watershed"
Al and Irene, Pulgas Water Temple
12/07































Cold Rose

Red Morton Park Rose Garden
12/07





























Bottlebrush wheatgrass
John Gill School
12/07

Welcome to the Hotel California, you can check out any time you like, but you can never leave.

I really didn't want to wake up today. I was home, the bed was comfortable, the weather outside was perfect for sleeping in, or well, anything for that matter, and my family was here. I wished that I could just have Mom write a note to my boss telling him that I was sick and couldn't go to work, anymore...especially in Arizona.
I forced myself to get up and immediately went to finish packing up the truck. Everyone else started to get up, and after two hours of purposely delaying myself, the truck was packed, including raiding my Dad's garden for grapes, apples, tomatoes and apricots. I could relax a little now and just enjoy being in my home.



















I once thought that leaving home would get easier each time you did it, instead I found out that it's the complete opposite. This time felt really hard. Yet I needed to do what I had to do. Doug would get a ride to the airport from mom and dad as we were driving out in the truck. I reluctantly said my extended goodbyes to my parents, got in the truck and again, forcefully delayed myself in the driveway until I found a good song to leave on. Ironically it was Purple Rain.
To alleviate my current depression, Crystal mentioned we should get Prima Deli for the road trip after we gas up. Sounded good to me. Sandwiches icing in the cooler, we left my neighborhood, the the city, then the county and finally the Bay Area once again. It was a nasty 13 hour drive home that started at noon and ended at 1am in Phoenix. Plagued by hot, swamp-ass heat, 5 mph and 2 hr delayed traffic in Los Angeles, cramping muscles and weary eyes, I took it all as my penance for once again leaving home.
I was "home" in the sense of the word, and that was all. In the meantime, my mattress gave me some comfort.

Part 5 Chowdering Mo'Fo's & I hate the Haight.

Bound and determined to have a better day than the previous one, we got up at the leisurely time of 10 and got on the road to SF by 11. To ensure that we were to start on a good note, we declined breakfast at home and opted for an early lunch at my old neighborhood Prima Deli. I was denied the dutch crunch bread last time during Christmas, but not this time. A huge sandwich on the sweet crunchy bread consisting of honey turkey,swiss,avocado,onion,lettuce,pickle,tomato and mustard & mayo. So good, so indescribable, so...you wouldn't understand. Made on the thighs of virgins or some shit. Your loss.
So we get on the road and in SF we hit up Pier 39 and Fisherman's Wharf (or a part of it...2 hr parking meters and all...). We browsed and shopped through the shops and stalls on the pier, got some cool trinkets and like 2 lbs of salt water taffy.
Stomachs readily processing the sandwich from a few hours ago, Doug and I were in the mood for a cup of clam chowder, since well, you can't get much fresher than on the pier.
Yes, touristy and made in large batches which nixes the quality a bit, but it was still a damn tasty treat, as Douglas approves.
























Bellies a bit fuller, we hit up the end of the pier and visit the Sea Lions basking on the sunny docks, barking at each other and displaying dominance by playing king of the mountain.




















Time almost up, we decide to head back to the car before I get yet another parking ticket from the parking Nazi. We hopped on the electric trolley and zipped down about a mile to the car.




















We get in the car when Doug remarks," Hey, anyone feel like a pint?" Well gee, it's 1:30 pm, we're on vacation, and that sounds like a great idea. Doug directs us to The Thirsty Bear, a brewery and tapas bar a block from the stadium. An hour later and bellies further distended with flavorful and icy beer flavors and savory appetizers, we zip out and head west through the city. We ended up heading down Geary Blvd again, the same road as the day before. Along the way we made a 20 minute spiritual pilgrimage inside Grace Cathedral for a momentary piece of inner solace and beauty before hopping back in the car, driving by the location (former location) of the elusive Lord of the Balls lounge and wouldn't you know it...the Pig and Whistle pub again. This time I mentioned the option of having a pint, so we stopped for two. While there, we decided to try another appetizer, curried fries and an order of chicken nuggets. The nuggets were nostalgic enough and I'm sure they were the same premade, frozen, partially made with chicken lips and asshole goodness that was given to me during cafeteria days in elementary school...in other words tasty.
The fries were interesting indeed. Last time I can remember having curry was in Tempe, living in my duplex with Dirty Ryan over a summer as he decided to try making curried chicken. Talk about stink. These didn't though. They were sweet, inundated with a mix of savory spices, and definitely addictive.
Bellies near capacity, we leave and I was well, coerced into driving the other two back to the Haight Ashbury for "shopping".
Ok, I saw it once, and that was good enough for me. Not that I let personal opinions dominate my prejudices, but the areas lifestyle definitely clashes with mine. Let alone being harassed on EVERY corner by some transient asking for cash, which some days they make more than I do...all for being lazy. Anyways, I tell them 20 minutes, which they turn into 45 minutes, and then an hour. I'm pissy and bored, and finally they are done, so we split for the coast.
Highway one south on the coast. The day's events take their toll on the two and soon Doug and Crystal are passed out on the car ride to half Moon Bay.
We get to Half Moon Bay, and to further punish our stomachs more at now, dinner time, we go to Barbara's fish trap, which is quite simply the best seafood around.
One more cup of chowder please to curb my fixation....
Main course I get the combo platter of fish,shrimp,scallops,calamari and rice. I literally had to perform emergency surgery to install a second stomach. Worth every bite though.
After dinner, a quick walk around the waterfront, then into the car to home, which with all the added food weight, I noticed the car struggling up the hills a little.
We get home, crash for a few hours until about 10pm. Bellies processing food and a little emptier, we head out for cocktails.
The plan originally was to have either of them drive so I can get buzzed this night and not the next so I won't have to make a 12 hr drive to Arizona hungover. Well, that plan never materialized, since the way they poured the drinks at our first stop, the Saddle Room on Woodside rd. All jack and little coke. Crystal was buzzing, so no driving for her.
We leave the somewhat young, clicky bar for more laid back surroundings and head further west up the road to the Pioneer bar . Live music, stiff ass drinks, interesting natives and wouldn't you know it, Foosball!
One busted player and some balls missing, but we still put a ton of quarters in that thing. Doug is now buzzed, Crystal is now wasted. I'm stone sober. Thank you 10 lbs of food still residing in my gullet...at least the clam chowder got drunk.
Highlight event at the pioneer? A drunk Crystal straddles me on a bench in front of the Foosball table, announced that she is DRuuuNNk! Almost gives me a headbutt in saying so, so I retort by teasing her by using the same motion and telling her that she is DruuUnnK! Which then she tries to comment back, but somehow only succeeds in slurring the word she was trying to say and summoning a mouthful of spit and phlem which flew out of her mouth instead of said word...and right onto my entire face and open mouth.
My girlfriend just pseudo-snowballed me. I wipe off the slime and give her a ton of shit (in a good humored way).
Doug then convinces me to take them down to Hanky Panky...Redwood City's only strip club, which was, at 1am, closed. No titties for us.
Second best option? The Carlos Club in San Carlos...just a bar, but a very..eclectic one. Also closed. Last option....the Orchid Room, right behind it, where we were the other night. Always open, so I escort their drunken asses inside. We have one, and finish off last call.
Drunken Crystal and Doug desire foodstuff sustenance, so we head down to Carl's Jr for a late night burger. Just when my stomach thought it was done...psych!
Damn tasty burger though...as it better be for a $6 burger. I fed the drunken masses and then put em to bed after a long, worthwhile, if not stomach displacing day.
Next day...part 6, last beach day and a time for family.

Hungover rollercoasters part 3

As if being a hungover Hasselhoff the day after my Mom's party wasn't bad enough, it was time for the "touristy" part of the vacation to commence. Not that I have anything wrong against being a tourist in my hometown, or should I say a tour guide, I just need the extra coffee today.

Waking up to no pressure or deadlines to meet was a definite bonus. We all crawled out of bed at a reasonable hour, around 10. Got our coffee and breakfast on before packing up the car with sweaters and our lumbering lethargic asses still oozing the toxicity from the night before.

Doug had a rental car to return, so we drove by the San Jose airport on the way to Santa Cruz for a day of coastal fun.

At 11am, it was simply refreshing and chillingly sobering to drive to the coast in fog and 57 degrees, seeing that back here in Phoenix, it was already 100 before noon. I took full advantage of my tank top and shorts today, and still managed to get a sunburn through the clouds.

We got to an early, relatively empty boardwalk, bought some ride tickets and a fresh made corndog for lunch.

We were flooded all day by the sights, sounds and smells of carefreeness and childhood fun. Cotton candy, hot dogs, popcorn. The sounds of kids giddily screaming on rides, the views of the beach from the worn wooden planks of the boardwalk that gave oh so little on each step.

Ramming speed ahead, a personal favorite, the bumpercars. Doug and I ravaged young kids, women and each other on occasion in this demolition derby free for all.

We walked down to the far end, got some hand made salt water taffy and started to head back up the other way.

Let me state, that I do NOT like roller coasters. They don't feel right to me, and I don't enjoy the rush. Let alone when Doug and Crystal convinced me to go on the Giant Dipper (the big white wooden coaster associated with the boardwalk), I barely fit in the car. The attendant had to shove on the restraint bar across my legs and cram me in there. Not a good sign. Anyways, I suffered through it, G forces and all and fulfilled my once a decade ride in a coaster. Last one ridden...May 1994, so I'm good for another 10 years.

As a semi-forced payback, I made them ride the log ride. I love water, it is my friend, and today it will be my weapon of vengeance. We get in the log, ascend the flume and take the leisurely snaking course atop the boardwalk to the inevitable 50 ft drop and splashdown. Ok...I'm 234 lbs. Doug is damn close, and Crystal is a good sized woman as well. Add in the weight of the boat and the speed generated my the sum of all and well...that's a lot of water displacement, which led to my ultimate triumph of photographic insinuations....said log ride/impromptu porn pic which will live in stories of false glory and high fives....

Ram it home Marc, ram it home!

Wet, sunburned and fulfilled, we left the boardwalk to head downtown for walking and shopping.

I found a cool restaurant supply shop called Chefworks, http://www.chefworks.com/ , and got some long sought and elusive kitchen gadgets.
After stopping by a Irish pub for a pint (and some crappy bar food), we headed back home via highway 1 along the coast. Driving through and past massive sandstone cliffs, redwood trees, eucalyptus groves and coastal farmland, we stopped at Sandy Beach just to get our feet wet and enjoy a little taste of solitude on a empty beach.

Halfway home we stopped at Pigeon point Lighthouse to enjoy the sights and to do a quick tour of the lighthouse grounds themselves, which all dated back to the obviously non-PC whaling days of the late 1800's.

Further up the coast we stopped at my old stomping grounds at Bean Hollow State Beach. Even though it was overcast this day, we still did our share of romping through the tide pools and enjoying the soothing sounds of the ocean

We must be moving on however. We headed home via La Honda road, through the redwood forests of the coast and back into home for another family dinner at mom n dads house. Leftovers was the menu for this day. My godmother took the leftover mussels and created a very tasty jambalaya like dish. It was evident that the previous day's debauchery took its toll on all of us. My uncles didn't have any drinks, and I think I only had one beer.

Tired, skin salty from the sea and bellies full, we all relaxed for a bit before the three of us headed out for a bit during the night. We zipped over to the orchid room in nearby San Carlos for cocktails. We had a couple and around 1am munchies were in order. Open facilities? Denny's, Jack in the Box, Chucks Donuts and Taquerilla el Gruellense. Reluctantly, we chose the latter.

Imagine Filibertos, only of a dubiously lesser quality. We all got the same thing (I think secretively so as if one got sick, we know what it was), numero 12, carne asada wet burrito in red sauce. The damn thing was huge, and about 3 lbs...and utterly tasteless. I got one knuckle in it (crunchy cartilage), and it left me with a filled void of scared gassy anticipation for the toilet. Thankfully, to me, it was only gas. Sleepy time, big day for part 4.

Up in the air

Well, the June trip to California has officially been cancelled for numerous reasons.

One, they rescheduled the Hermosa Beach AVP tournament to last weekend, so there will be nothing going on there when we were supposed to go.

Two, Sharkeez is STILL not open and remains a burnt up hulk of a building.

Three, there is a possible family business deal going through here wherein I'll be going in on a apartment building with Dad that would require me to be present to sign escrow papers, walk-throughs, etc...

So, everything is up in the air right now. Besides, it would save me a pretty penny not to go in two weeks.

The alternative? Mom's birthday is the 29th of July, and I'd like to be there. Chris and Crystal have never been to the bay area and would be a fun adventure for them. Combine that with if Doug is able to come too (we grew up there together), we'd be able to take them on a nostalgic, fun (and possibly drunken) adventure while we be their guide. If I can swing it with the folks, I'd be able to have Crystal and maybe Chris crash at the parents house. If I can't get that many people allowed to stay there, a cheap hotel may be available (and possibly more comfy) for Chris and Doug.

I also wouldn't have to find a sitter for Jenny, as Mom and Dad would love to see her there too.

We could take one car with all out stuff and one dog. It would break down to about $50 a person for gas and some minor grocery costs to chip in for meals at home.

That's our tentative plan right now, but like I said, things are still up in the air...

Where in the world is Marc Demelo?

Follow this link to google maps to see where all I've been. It's pretty cool! You can make up your own maps as well! Don't forget to zoom in if it looks all cluttered.

http://maps.google.com/maps/ms?ie=UTF8&hl=en&msa=0&msid=116693688445716539367.0000011282a734da6c4b1&om=1&ll=48.224673,-109.6875&spn=99.91938,236.953125&t=h&z=2

Camp Lestiki

Camp Lestiki. What? Yes, all our various campsites have appropriate names. Camp Surge (under nearby powerlines), Camp Crazy Gringo (only a crazy white boy would camp under those conditions), Camp Jethroe (home to Jethroe's white trash annual squirrel call championships), Camp Danger (area was roped off with red "danger" police tape and then ignored upon arrival) and now Camp Lestiki. Lestiki-the combination of Lesbians and tiki dolls. Huh? It'll make sense in a little bit here...
So I got three days off last weekend to celebrate Chris' birthday on the 16th. We had tried to get something going, but just decided on making a quick camp trip up north before the fire season kicks off. He had to work on Sunday during the day, so I headed up solo that morning after getting off work Saturday night.
Unannounced to me, I started my journey up the highway smack in the middle of the Arizona Ironman race. Miles and miles of bikers racing up the road gave me fond memories of high school days and taking daylong mountain bike treks with Ryan into the hills and beaches far from our homes. After two hours, I arrive at our destination to find, surprisingly, that ALL of the campsites are taken. They looked as if they were packing up after a long weekend. One site had a family, one site had a pair of day bikers, and the other had 2 lesbians and their dog. Trust me, they weren't lipstick lesbians either.
I decide to wait them all out for a little and parked down the road to wait. The weather was forecast to be bad, so the later it got, the more worried I got. After a while, nobody left yet. It was after noon now. Yikes!
Enter ranger Bob. Actually he was a forestry fireman who rolled up and chatted with me briefly about campfires and local wind warnings. Moral of his stories...make sure you put our your campfires when you leave. He left me and went up the road to relay the message to the other campers.
Finally after a few hours, the two ladies left. I gunned up the truck and commandeered the site. It's people like them that make campers look bad. Trash all over the site, waste not buried...and the key item-their fire-ring hastily built in the middle of a bunch of dry, dead grass...WITH THEIR FUCKING FIRE STILL GOING!!! Dumb ass lesbos!! How did they try to put their fire out? By dumping their dog's leftover dry dogfood and kicking in a pair of rocks. Let me be the first to say that you guys are fucking idiots.
Well, after putting out their fire with buckets hauled from the creek, I set up a new, propper ring in the middle of a flat dirt area, erected (I said erected) 3 tents, one lean-to shelter, sawed through 3 fallen trees for firewood and secured the area solo by 6pm. I was spent, and definitely looking forward to my first of many brews.

























(camp Lestiki day 1)

After starting to relax, getting bundled up for the night and waiting for Chris to arrive, I noticed a weird knot on a tree. I got up and checked it out. The lesbos left me a wood carving. They took a piece of firewood, skinned the bark off it and dug two eyes and a mouth into it, and nailed it into a nearby tree. Interesting. At least they were productive enough to carve a tiki. Hence- Camp Lestiki.
Chris arrived to a tired and very drunk camp-mate around 1130pm and we partied until 3am.
Process was repeated for the next few days while mixing in daytrips to town for fuel and supplies, listening to talk radio and comedy, but most of all, just forgetting the civilized world 100 miles away from us. The good news on the trip-Chris had a relaxed 44th bday and the forecasted weather never came, so there was nothing more that a small breeze and partly clouded skies.
The bad news-we had to find out Tuesday morning on the radio that some piece of crap whack job killed 33 people in Virgina because he couldn't deal with the small, easy to deal with daily issues that we are all cool with. Thanks dick, I hope you roast slowly in hell.
All the more reason to not want to come back to the real world and crap like that. The trip went too fast and soon enough it was Wednesday. We had to get back, I had to get to work at six.

Part 7- Epilogue

As a traveller, you learn to be a few things. Adventurous, curious, humbled, inspired, free. You develop the mentality of what you are supposed to be-an ambassador, a student, a polite visitor and a gracious guest. People themselves are, for the better use of the word, dumb. Dumb I say because not one person would in their lifetime, know all that there is to know in the world. I'm a dumb person because there are so many people, places and things out there that I have no knowledge of. The same is true for all the other people out there, for I am sure that there are things that I know or have done that nobody else has, therefore I have something to contribute. A true traveller is accidentally selfish, not deliberate. Going to say, Vegas or a high end resort just to attempt to "live big" or to "be seen" is deliberate, and quite frankly a waste of valuable time. Accidentally selfish is having a local come up and strike a conversation, hitting some similarities and having them invite you to go and do something, or to learn a bit of history in or about a certain area without having to pay for a tour guide. I'm perfectly happy not going to a hot nightclub or a $50 a plate dinner restaurant because I don't want to be grouped in that false image. Best act of accidental self-indulgence for me...a hour on a beach alone in my thoughts. My friends may be right next to me, but usually in that moment, it's just me and my mind taking in what has been offered to me.
By travelling to places, whether it be a Hawaiian island, the icy tundras of the Norwegian coast, the deserts of Africa or the tropics of South America, there are things to learn and experience.
The costs usually outweigh the benefits on a personal level, for even though you leave a part of yourself there when you leave, most times you are a richer individual as a whole upon your return. Call it an investment tax onto yourself- a personal enrichment fee that nobody can ever take from you.
As we get older we forget most of the time about this investment. We get caught up far too much in our jobs, responsibilities, homes, cars, ipods, computers, who is the next contestant to get kicked off American Idol and such. Less we forget that these things are relatively unimportant in the grander scheme of things. He who finishes with the most toys isn't the true winner of the game. You can't take those with you and you have the possibilities of getting them taken away.
Enrichment, inspiration, solace, bliss and peace of mind are things that can never be removed and can always be recalled upon for an escape. Cherish those moments, and strive to live as much as possible in that moment, whether you share it with another, or just yourself.

Mahalo, mahalo nui loa Hawai'i. Aloha...

Part 6 Day 6- Somber sobriety through reality

Like vultures, the local pigeons knew somehow that we were about to leave, hoping that we'd leave some scrap behind for their welfare. Waking up that morning was the biggest chore we ever had to do this year to date. We did get a good 10 hours of sleep that night, and were glad that we were well rested to travel instead of hungover and hurting on a plane. We had our final breakfast at Smorgy's while Laura slept in. It was unappetizing. Not due to it's lack of flavor, but mentally the flavor was lacking seeing that in a few hours we'd be on a plane back to the real world. After breakfast we walked down to the beach. We spent our entire vacation and not once yet revisited the beach near our hotel. Too touristy anyway. At this time in the morning, usually just the locals are out going amongst their daily business. It's the time of day I like here, where you see the reality of the indigenous peoples. Joggers, dog walkers, people going to work, playing checkers, strumming a guitar, taking time to eat breakfast at a picnic table, or just sitting around having a soda or coffee. It's calm and kick back and it makes you want to become a transplant here living the same lifestyle.

The three of us walked past the statues of Duke greeting the city, arms outstretched, past prince Kuhio, and down to the Waikiki pier. Kids were playing in the calm waters, and you could see fish swimming around in the water below. We sat there soaking in rays and the surroundings while we could, like some parasite hoping to live a little bit healthier off our gracious host and not wanting to leave. Laura met us here and as she showed up, we wanted to move to one of the beachfront veranda areas where there were benches and tables. We found a bench and implanted ourselves for a spell again. Laura stayed for a little bit before heading off to cure an empty stomach and enjoying a short lay out on the beach. We stayed on the bench, silent in our thoughts letting whatever stress melt away, knowing that soon it would start to rebuild again in a few days.

A hour later we needed to leave and get ready to check out. Crystal grabbed a couple of handfuls of Waikiki sand to take home. Pele's curse would ring true after this act. I thought that it just applied to lava rocks, but tradition beckoned that anything removed from the island would be cursed. As soon as she took the sand and got back to the room to pack it started. She dropped her cell phone 3 stories onto the rooftop below the balcony, shattering it into two parts. After our maintenance man helped up retrieve it, we packed up, checked out, bidded Laura farewell (she had a later flight) and waited for a taxi outside. Crystal got gum on her shoe. Then our taxi driver got somewhat lost in the airport. I wasn't about to deal with a messed up cursed plane ride. I grabbed Crystal's suitcase and removed the bag of sand, leaving it on the airport curb. Our problems ceased after that and made for only a depressing plane ride back instead of a cursed one. The only solace I got on the ride home was scrolling through the pictures on my camera of the previous 5 days, forming a bittersweet smile on my face.

Part 5 - Operation Deep Blue

We awoke as early as we could have, but definitely not as late as we wanted to. The day before worked us hard. Little did we know that we were going to do ourselves in today. We had a whale watching cruise scheduled for today off the shores of Waikiki, so after a quick and light breakfast at where?? (Smorgy's) We headed back to the room, Chris and I returned the rental car while the girls shopped, popped some Dramamine just in case and then waited outside for our bus pickup at 11am.
We got picked up and dropped off at the harbor, boarded our ship and went through the standard briefing on what to expect to do and see. It went on for a while and I was expecting a timeshare shpeel any minute. We were then cut loose to have lunch, cocktails and to explore the ship and its 3 decks.






























































It was supposed to be a 3 hour tour...a three hour tour...
I stayed outside most of the time, as breezy as it was...waiting for any whale sightings. We got great views of Diamondhead and areas past it along the windward side. Still no whales. We got an occasional blowout from one, but still nothing.




We turned around after an hour and a half and were re-approaching the harbor when finally, our guides announced whales off the starboard side. We were so close to a free cruise too (a guarantee that the company gave if we saw nothing) I was about to declare shenanigans, but finally I saw activity. We turned around and followed them for a while, catching up to them, then losing them for another hour. Our tour up, we turned back again and headed into port, passing fellow sailors and barges leaving to sea.

























We got back into port, returned to our hotel, relaxed and lost our sea legs before heading out our final afternoon to catch a shuttle to the Ala Moana Center for some shopping and the Mai Tai bar. Got the shuttle and immediately hit rush hour traffic. What would have normally taken 15 minutes turned into an hour, but we finally arrived. We got into the Harley Davidson Honolulu shop, T&C Surf, Hilo Hatties and other shops to get our fill of personal shopping that we couldn't get back home. Done with shopping, we hit the open air Mai Tai bar in on the roof level in the center of the center. Happy hour equals happy patrons. $7 pitchers of microbrews, cheap apps (pupus) and live music while you sit in comfy veranda furniture and couches. Soaking up the atmosphere, clean air and slight breeze (along with cocktails), we were happy campers.




















I got my long awaited calamari fix and tried a few new and tasty dishes. We were there only barely 2 hours, but it had felt like time slipped away longer than that before we remembered that we needed to catch the 8pm free trolley back to Waikiki or else a taxi would be our only option. We departed and got our ride and returned to the room. One by one, the Mai Tai bar's effects doubled with the Dramamine took us all out. We were supposed to relax and regroup to head out for our last night in paradise, but we all ended up taking power naps that turned into comas. We took turns waking up after 1130pm, but by then it was too late to go out, so we just fell back asleep in our clothes for the night.

4 physical whores on day 4-Day 4 part 4 subchapter3

We left the temples a little more tranquil than ever before and headed over to Kailua to check out the beaches on the windward side. Going into uncharted territory, we drove around semi-aimlessly through the town of Kailua and surrounding neighborhoods, around needless detours and construction before saying screw it and picking a direction to keep driving in until we reached a beach. Turned out to be the right way. We ran straight into Kailua Beach Park. We stopped at a general store that had a deli and had the tastiest turkey avocado club on wheat ever. Headed to the beach and were greeted with an uncrowded teal paradise.


















Only a small handful of people were on this section of the beach. The waters were calm and clear. Sand was powdery and flawless, and went out into the surf, staying shallow, waist deep for 50 yards. After lounging in the water for a while, a local sea turtle floated in to inspect the humans in his pool. Crystal got adventurous and I agreed to give her a crash course in snorkeling. This being only the second time ever her being in the ocean, I though it was going to be a daunting task. Advice on putting fins on, mask and snorkel adjustments, practicing floating heads down to learn to absorb and go with the motion of the waves, and finally getting over the psychosomatic reflexes of being underwater and breathing through a tube. She passed with flying colors. There was nothing to see here at this beach though, all sand. After a few hours we left to head south and try to catch Hanuama Bay before last call and park closing. Turns out she needed the crash course as we got there with an hour to snorkel.



















Since it was close to closing time, the admissions desk was empty, so it was free time today. Didn't have to watch the mandatory movie on snorkel safety either, just had to walk down to the beach. We walked down the side of the destroyed caldera and tossed our things on the beach. No fins here today, it was standable for 100 yards, and beyond that you could swim with no waves. The look on Crystal's face was priceless when she saw her first fishes. It was equivalent to swimming in your aquarium, the only thing that was missing was the treasure chest and scuba steve's bubbles. We made use of our underwater cameras and got a good 45 minutes of swimming in before getting hauled in before the park closed, but we could have easily swam for hours.
We left Hanuama and the day settled itself on us. We did in one day what some people would have done in 3. Climbed mountains, hiked trails, soaked in rays, swam with the native wildlife and found tranquility in simplicity.
Later on that night we attempted to go out for dinner and drinks, and made a valiant attempt at it, but after 2 places and a few drinks we were whipped and called it a day.

4 physical whores on day 4-Day 4 part 4 subchapter2

Leaving Diamondhead and the Honolulu area, we headed up to the windward (east) coast of Oahu near Kaneohe and Kailua.



















Our first stop here was at the Valley of the Temples, north of Kaneohe. It is a large, multi-denominational cemetery and shrine complex complete with a replica of the Japanese Buddhist temple in Japan ( I forgot it's actual name). The gardens and grounds are kept up immaculately. It sounds segregated, but all the burial areas are divided up by religions. Buddhists in sections, Christians and catholics in another, Jewish, Hindu, etc. The highlight, of course is the actual temple.

This temple is laboriously kept up to perfection, and is one of the areas that tourists don't really know about. We were alone there except for about 5 other people for quite some time. Upon entry, you are permitted to ring the large copper bell in front, in fact, are encouraged to do so, for luck.



The whole complex is covered with endemic plants and flowers, strategically placed koi ponds and short waterfalls and adjacent buildings. It is by far one of the more tranquil places I've been at. The sound of flowing water, birds and a slight breeze created a hypnotic state. All we were missing was the sound of monks chanting. We were allowed to go inside the main temple for a bit after removing our shoes. It was quiet and reflective. Incense was burning, flower arrangements were offered and people were sitting around with their own thoughts.























It was rejuvenating to be here, and to stroll around the grounds. I would have left here totally at peace if it wasn't for me noticing something bad that caught my eye. Towards the back of the complex was a rather large grove of bamboo growing. I though it was super cool and went to take a picture of it. After I did, I looked at my camera and saw that it came out funny, like the bamboo was awkward. I looked up from my camera to the actual bamboo itself and saw what was wrong...


















What I thought were just scratches on the bamboo was actually graffiti. Apparently tourists think it's a good idea to carve into the bamboo with their names, dates, scribblings, and profanity to leave their mark here. There was not one clean and bare piece of bamboo untainted. This upset me. To take an area that is still relatively pure, untainted and peaceful and to ruin it like this is disgraceful. I actually felt a little embarrassed to be a human here. To my surprise, it wasn't isolated to only the bamboo. Towards the front of the temple, large low hanging trees with broad waxy leaves shaded the walkway. Apparently people carved into the leaves too.
We still left this place healthier in the soul, but a bit ashamed at heart.
Next stop-Kailua & Hanauma Bay

Part 3, Day 3-Cuninary treats and sandy feets

Day three was our first relaxing non-structured day to ourselves. Something wasn't right though, as we've been here 3 days and was missing something...oh yeah, Smorgy's for breakfast!!! The main reason we chose our hotel again (besides being centrally located) was that simply the best restaurant ever for breakfast was half a block away. We cruised over there at 8:30am and paid our $6.95 for all the breakfast we could eat. Fresh cut pineapple, papaya, melons. Tater-tots,eggs, muffins, rice, sausage, french toast, pancakes, beef hash (which was made from the previous night's prime rib...yum!), juice and hot coffee...all eaten at leisure on the open air front patio...life is good my friends, life is good.
We split after a tasty meal, got the rental car and packed up for our North Shore day. On the way up there though, I had to make a personal stop for something I haven't had in about 15 years. Hot, fresh malasadas. Malawhowhats??? Ma-la-saw-daz...



















One nice thing about Hawai'i is that there is a very large Portuguese population there. Go figure, the Azores islands off Portugal are tropical and volcanic...so is Hawaii. We headed over to Leonard's bakery, two miles from our hotel, king of the malasadas on Oahu, if not Hawaii. The last time I had these tasty treats was over 15 years ago in my grandma's old house, back when she regularly made them. Imagine a donut without the hole, stretched out to a somewhat round shape, drop fried till golden brown and slightly crispy on the outside, then immediately rolled in sugar so you get some of the sugar crystallized in a glaze and some of it granulated. Suckers are like 500 cals each, but hell with it, I ordered a dozen...fresh, literally made to order. Forget sex, this is better.
I also got a small loaf of Portuguese sweet bread. Kind of like Hawaiian sweet bread(you've seen it in the stores), but better, the Hawaiians copied it from us.
Our bellies even fatter and happier with nostalgic family treats, we hit up the North Shore.
First stop, Haleiwa, the center for North Shore surfing. Apparently there was going to the women's pipeline series next week, but nobody was up there practicing. We found the International surf museum there, which was more of a historical surf shack, but had some really cool old history in it, run by an old school surf bum from the longboard days. We walked around the small shops, clothing stores and surf shops for a bit before venturing further along the coast to visit some of the historic surf beaches along the way.


















It was nice to finally get my feet wet in the surf. Water, like semi-tepid, brisk at first bath water, greeted your skin, while the blue water vision in front of you distracted you from the small chill at first. Up the beach, a large sea turtle had beached itself to relax and sun itself as a crowd of onlookers gathered. It was more entertaining to him I think, looking at all the strange creatures looking at him.



















We left there and headed down to Waimea Beach park, a calm sandy bay further east. Perfect conditions here. A slight breeze, no clouds, 80 degrees, and being the middle of the week, not too crowded. We laid out for a while, floated in the water for a good time too. It was super-chill and soul revitalizing and far too short-lived, but we had other places to be.



















Such as our random in the middle of nowhere bar, Malekos...which was...freggin closed for remodeling! Dammit!!! Guess we'll have to go next year :-)
By now, we had started getting tired and still needed to drive home to the hotel, during rush hour(which definitely sucks on an island.) We finished our island circle drive and arrived back in the Honolulu area via the windward (east) side of the island. Time for dinner. What's for early dinner?? Teddy's of course. Teddy's bigger burgers got tested out last year, but Chris missed out, so we had to revisit it. Well worth it folks. Forget McDonald's secret sauce, this stuff took the cake.
We get back into the hotel, de-gear, shower and rest for a few hours before getting ready to head back out for the night. Ready to go, we hit up the Shorebird restaurant and bar in the Outrigger Reef hotel on the west end of Waikiki. Low key, not crowded, live music and lapping of waves 20 feet away from you. We had a few drinks there before looking for a different venue.
We walked around and headed back to the Honolulu Tavern, which we promptly left due to an individual in need of personal deodorant. Tired and almost ready to call it a night, Chris, Crystal and I went back to the room to have a nightcap and play "Ho or No" while a more energetic Laura went solo to Moose's. A party animal, she made some new friends and partied the night away at a few other places and returned early the next morning.
We had a few more beers in the hotel room before passing out after a long day.

Part 2- Why we fight

December 7th, 1941. You can try to explain the feelings you have when you are here, but it never comes out right. How can you truly describe what it is to be on the spot where over 1200 men died and still remain, let alone being in the area where over the course of 2 hours, over 2500 people were killed? It is something that changes the way you look at things. 1200 sailors, husbands, brothers, sons, fathers. Most were between the ages of 18 and 22. A father and son died here together, along with a few pairs of brothers. Men just doing a job on a peaceful Sunday morning. Most were eating breakfast, waking up or finishing attending Sunday services. Nobody knew what was about to happen, and because of that, we lost a lot of good people and were immediately forced into WWII. This isn't a place where you have to try and fight back tears. It's useless. There is no point in being too proud to mourn here, in fact, it's almost insulting if one is insensitive and unfazed here. Tourists, foreigners, and ignorant people unfortunately are abundant here. Men refuse to remove their hats here. Japanese tourists flock here in some form of past glory. These people shouldn't be here. I usually leave here saddened, humbled, thankful, and a little bit angry from said above people.Amazing how people don't understand what they need to, all the while as oil still bubbles to the surface of the stricken vessel.


























After the quiet boat ride back to the main area that Wednesday morning, we had some extra time to look around the memorial center. I got a few items from the gift shop-a shirt, and two flags that were flown on the Arizona late last year. A small 3x5 one I gave to my bosses Greg and Mike, which was flown on Dec 7th 2006 at 7:44pm, on the 65th anniversary of the attack. The second one, a bit bigger, I kept-It was flown on Sept. 11th last year at a commemorative ceremony in remembrance of 2001's attack in NY. These flags will never be flown again, they have too much honor in them. We left the memorial and linked up back with our tour group to head over to the USS Missouri. This harbor is unique now, for it has the places that began and ended the war. Chris, Crystal and I made our way to the massive ship via shuttle. Kevin was our custom tour guide instead of the park docent we had 4 years ago. He turned out to be much more informed that the others.

We toured the entire vessel (where allowed), from the bow to the bowels of the ship.
























We left the old girl smelling of cosmolene and war grease. It smelled like triumph.
We were left to our own devices for a hour before needing to meet up with the group to depart, so on the way out I humped a mine and then we went to grab a burger for lunch.



















The tour left the harbor and we got the extended tour through Chinatown, the capitol, royal palaces and finally through Punchbowl cemetery. We were eager to see George again, the VFW park docent we had the pleasure of walking with last time. Kevin informed us that George works there Weds, so we were in luck. We pulled unfortunately to see that he wasn't there. Another VFW docent, Bernard, was to be our guide because George's wife had fallen ill. Concerned and downhearted, we forwarded our condolences through him and pressed on with the tour. Bernard didn't get into the same detail as George did 4 years ago, but he did give us additional info that George didn't. Certain sections of the cemetery were technically tombs of the unknown soldiers through the wars. He pointed out certain graves and memorials that added to our knowledge.
We started our day before light, at 5am. It was now 3pm, a long day. But we were still determined to make somewhat of a night out of it. We got back into our room, showered, rested and regrouped. Papi got a second wind and decided that he needed to test his surfing ability on the ironing board. For his safety, he only got one leg on and 5 toes on the nose.
























We heard good reviews about the Harbor pub, near Honolulu marina, so we got a taxi there and turned out to be some of the best pizza I've had in years. Reminiscent of Round Table pizza back home when I was in elementary school (before they got corporate and crappy). We had a few rounds of drinks, watched the sunset over the ships and let our evening commence.



















Opon leaving, we decided to try and hit up the Row bar, near the Aloha towers area. Apparently our directions were skewed as we thought we were close enough for walking distance. A nice 2 miles later and 1 pee break along the way, we stumbled in after a 40 minute walk. We all agreed to take a taxi home when the time came. We grabbed a table and met up with Laura's new friend Andy, whom she met at Duke's the night before after we crashed out for the night. We all warmed up after a little bit and soon we were joking and having a good time. The group agreed to leave, to the 5 of us crammed into a taxi (literally, like beyond sardines...I got a semi personal lap dance from Crystal and Chris.) Andy shuttled us to a dive bar called Arnold's. Total hole in the wall complete with strangers talking to themselves. At least it was entertaining. You learned to make friends early here, as to limit the number of your enemies. At least the crowd was mixed as to not feel that out of place. Drinks were steep, which lightened our moods a bit more. After a bit though, it got boring, so we once again voted to relocate while walking towards the hotel. Last stop, Honolulu Tavern, 1/2 block from our hotel. Talk about super cheap!! It's a locals bar, so annoying tourists need not apply, which is fine by us. It was the most comfortable place I had found yet. Hot bartenders that pour very steep for next to nothing. Complimentary chips, popcorn or this night they had pork rinds(yuk). We have a few more there before heading back to the room. We started a new game that night called "Ho or No". Rules are simple. Get back to your hotel room and get on the balcony. Look at the street below and point out girls if they are Hoes or Not. Simple and fun if you are drunk. What a fun way to end the night after a long day-heckling hookers.