Tuesday, February 21, 2006

Farewell, Good Friend

Coming home from work, I bumped into a good friend, Linda, who was on her way to work. We kissed and embraced and she asked if I'd heard anything about Grundy.

For some reason, I knew Linda was going to tell me that he was dead. She didn't have to speak it. The moment it was out, I cried unabashedly on the street in front of passersby. I didn't care. I'd just lost a good friend.

No need for details as to how he died. Grundy had a feeling, I think, that his last visit to the island was indeed his last. The hints were there as he gave precious items of his away to people he really cared about. Brennen got some of his prized coins. Some of his rare postage stamps. I hope Brennen appreciates such gifts. Grundy put in a lot of thought as he passed them on. He enjoyed Brennen so much and couldn't say enough good things about him.

People Grundy had known far longer than he knew Dwane, Tom and I are terribly broken over his passing. Poor Sheri and Joe. They really liked Grundy. You could tell they were close.

You'll be missed good friend. The world won't be the same now. Enjoy that Pearl Bar up in the sky with the nifty cushioned bar stools and free flowing beer. I'll see you when you see me.

Tuesday, February 07, 2006

F F Freeeezzzing!

The office is cold. Waikiki is cold. Frost threatens to develop on window panes!!! Somebody turn up the heat!!!

Wednesday, February 01, 2006

Happy Birthday Sister Mine

Jeez, are you 50 already??? Can't be. I still remember you in your little flouncey skirt, with your new shoes skipping down the sidewalk and your curly hear bouncing as you come to a screeching halt to witness the slug zooming along the sidewalk in old Aliamanu.

I still remember you skating on your plastic skates that Christmas day back in . . . 1962? . . . over at the Kaukani's and Carpio's carport going round and round and round until you wanted to kick them off because the skates were ungainly and made you look like you were about to fall over onto your face. You envied me my metal skates that day and broke down in a squalling fit. It sucked to be you. I felt for you that day.

Now you're a granny. My gawd . . . wanna skate?