Broke da slippa

What a catastrophe. Today my slipper broke. For those of you who are non-Hawaiian, this means that my flip flop came apart. We aren't talking about some $1.99 pair from the local drug store.  These were expensive puppies from the Birkenstock store. Yes, arch support and everything; custom fit Chacos.

I guess I was expecting that since I put down a pretty penny on these orthopedic wonders, that they would last maybe more than a couple of years. But, alas, I was wrong. At first, they were feeling a bit looser than I remembered them being. Then, "kapow", we have separation, Houston. The toe-hold came right off and my footbed was left dangling in the wind.  Luckily, I was only casually strolling through my dining room (these were my cherished indoor slippers). What if, God forbid, I had been running down the street being chased by my nasty cat-eating neighbor-dogs?! 


Last week, I tempted fate and donned my righteous-consumer-hat and managed to exchange a cloth tote bag at Walmart that I had bought several months previously.  It was beginning to fall apart. "Obviously poor craftsmanship", I explained to the customer service people. They all gathered around the fraying edges of the bag, tssking at the idea that such poor-quality items would be sold at their store. I didn't even bother to wash the coffee stains off or pick the ground-in dog food from the inside. I was so confident that I would be in the right, I threw caution and cleanliness to the wind.


These slippers, however, are another matter. On the one hand, I've already pushed my luck with the Chaco distributors here. My last pair of Chaco sandals (you know, the ones that look like Teevas with the winding strap around your foot), started coming apart at the sole. I promptly returned them and then promptly forgot that I had returned them. I kid you not, it took almost two years to retrieve them and for all my troubles, they just replaced them with new ones.  On the other hand, I am not anxious to send these beloved-but-broken sandals into the black hole of shoe repair. I need indoor shoes NOW.


Oh, woe is me. This time "nothing lasts forever" outweighs "you get what you pay for". As my friend used to tell me, "It may not be right, but it is so". I guess they were starting to stink anyway.

Conserving cultures

I recently spent three days in Honolulu attending a conference on conservation. The theme was "Applying Traditional and Western Knowledge Systems". I had no expectations as I went into this event; I only knew that I'd be tired at the end of it.


But coming away from it has me re-energized regarding the underlying reasons regarding my passion for conservation. Yes, it helps to connect me to a land where I have decided to place my roots. But even stronger than that connection is the re-alignment of my sensitivities to the ancestors of this land who are whispering to me in the trees, the water, the clouds, the fish, the ground; this place called Kaua`i. 


The "take-home" message for me was that conservation is not a new concept to Hawaiians. Historically, the way in which the people of these islands communed with their environment was sustainable. Everything they took from the land or sea, they gave back in some way.  Kamuela Enos, with MA`O Farms, said that he doesn't really like to use the word "stewardship" when talking about caring for the environment because it does not properly reflect the kinship that the Hawaiians had with the land.  It is their father, mother, brother, sister.  The land is intricately woven into their life; not only does it provide sustenance but it feeds their spirituality and their well-being.


On the last day of the conference, something that someone said really resonated with me. They said that when you are in a place, you should recognize how it makes you feel. This isn't just a "stop and smell the roses" type of platitude.  What they were trying to convey is that you should recognize the sense of why you are there and what that spot is telling you.


If I don't listen, I may misinterpret what I am supposed to do. I plan on doing much more listening in the coming months. 


`A `ohe pau ka `ike i ka halau ho `okahi.  All knowledge is not taught in one school.  One learns from many sources.

My love affair

So far, it is only stealing glances, the occasional fondling, and yes, soft and gentle caressing. And as soon as I am done with my current two-year relationship, I will break free and make all of my wildest dreams come true!

"Move over", Blackberry on Verizon and "Hello", iPhone on AT&T!

I am completely and utterly smitten with the new iPhone 4G. This yearning can only be matched by the one I had in 1975 for the alluring and playful convertible VW bug. Although that relationship never came to fruition, I am determined to make this one happen. The only thing standing in my way is this darned contract with my current wireless carrier and my problem-plagued Blackberry Storm.

Oh sure, I went through the usual relationship process getting to know Storm. At first I was excited and blinded by the new technology. But then I gradually came to realize that I was in a relationship with something that didn't fit my needs or my lifestyle, was constantly "glitching" and ignoring calls, and was an all-around disappointment.

Just to be clear, I am not a "grass is always greener" sort of person. I've done my investigation into this new  uber-cool iPhone technological beauty and it is something worth having.  My Blackberry, on the other hand, is a huge disaster. I am currently on my 5th replacement of the same model. Granted, one of the occurrences was my fault and I definitely had no intention of falling into a stream with it, but all of the others are because this phone is a huge dud.

No more "Can you hear me now?" utterances will ever escape my lips. I promise to be true and faithful and to always take care of it with the utmost attention. Apple, you are brilliant! I am already a Mac convert, own a iTouch, and will soon (uh, ten more months and counting) be a proud owner of the smartest phone to ever be made. If you don't believe me, you can check it out here. Antenna issues? Pshew. Please, what phone doesn't have reception or antenna issues?

This phone relationship will be forever. Unless of course an affordable version of a Dick Tracy-type watch-phone comes around.  I bet you Apple will be the ones to come out with it.

The screamer

I have a screamer that lives next door to me.  I am guessing that she is about 10 years old and I think the cause of much of her woes is that she has several older brothers. Now, I get the frustration that siblings bring at that age. I also get that some people need to vent their frustration in some manner. What I don't get is how it can go on and on and on and...


I mean, where is the rest of the family while this rant is happening? Do they just tune her out and pretend that it isn't taking place? Remember, I live in Hawaii where multi-generational domiciles are more than common.  There is a very minuscule probability that there are not several other relatives at home at each given moment when a tantrum of this type is occurring. Don't they mind? Do they have sand in their ears?  Are they investors in cotton, earmuff, and earplug companies?


What I also don't get is the actual need to scream. I must be missing some female gene that dictates that every girl must scream starting at around the age of 2.  I see girls screaming with delight at the playground. I see teens screaming as they look on in teen-adoration at their teen-idols. I even see grown women screaming in either fear or excitement at something as simple as squirting water.  I, myself, am not a screamer.


Oh, I do exclaim the occasion "Oh!" or "@$?&!", but never a full-blown blood curdling scream. 


Hold on a minute. I think I do remember a time when I let out a throat-burning, lung-deflating, scream of terror. I was just about ten years old (the same age as my neighbor), on the verge of drifting off to sleep.  My older sister jumped into the doorway of my room (dark silhouette backlit from the hallway) and in a menacing voice yelled "TARANTULA" with her arms thrown wide. I remember I sat bolt-upright in bed, eyes popping, screaming bloody-murder. Even the thought of it makes my neck ache a bit.


Yes, that may have contributed to my life-long phobia of spiders, but it did not send me down the road of being a serial screamer. Luckily, I think I may have passed this missing scream-gene proclivity on to each of my two daughters; it was a blissful and peaceful time at the playground with them. No ear-piercing shrills, or deafening tantrums.


My young neighbor, on the other hand, is perfecting her skill at every opportunity.  With the aid of her brothers, she will be ready to enter into the Banshee Hall of Fame at a very early age. And she will know people far and wide who will be able to verify her claim.  Lord, have mercy.

Are Wii having fun yet?

Normally, I think of myself as being an agile and well-coordinated person. But, as of late, I have discovered that I am no good at snow-boarding, floating in a bubble down a stream, or riding a Segway on the beach. But, on the other hand, I am really good at hula-hoops, kung fu, and flying like a bird.


And, my wings are feeling very tired.


I have discovered the wonderful world of Wii Fit Plus. Not being of the "gaming generation" this is all fairly new to me.  We are talking about a virtual yoga instructor as well as a sassy cartoon that tells you that you are not only obese (according to medical standards, of course), but automatically adjusts your Mii caricature to reflect your plumpness.


Not feeling daunted by the Nintendo manual that warns of seizures, eye strain, motion sickness, and damage to your console or TV screen, I leapt onto the Wii Fit Board and began my journey into wellness. 


"DO NOT JUMP ON THE BOARD" the screen warns me as it puts me back at the beginning of my routine. Shoot, I thought I was doing so well.  "STEP IN TIME TO THE MUSIC" it then screams at me. Wait a minute, I was in perfect sync. It is the carpeting under the board that is screwing with the results. "SO, BALANCE GAMES AREN'T YOUR CUP OF TEA", the screen consoles me, "KEEP WORKING AT IT", it placates.


So far my injuries have been minor; feet tangling with the edge of the board as I attempt to step on and off in time to the music, a sore elbow from trying to hit home runs, and a very bruised ego.


The dogs have learned to flee the room when they see The Board being laid out on the floor, and I'm wishing that I actually had curtains on the windows. But, my personal trainer is very encouraging and never laughs at me; at least to my face. For all I know this thing is hooked up to some central Wii Fit Headquarters where virtual trainers compare whose "client" is least coordinated or who is not in first place, but rather, who is in millionth place.


Overall, I am having a blast with this thing and it will all be worth it as I whittle away layers of exercise apathy and shed pounds of inert activity. Besides, I take comfort in knowing that I at least look better in person than all those little Mii characters that I am in fierce competition with.

Life and Death

As my daughter so succinctly put it, “Life is always fatal”. At its base level, it is easy to understand that yes, we all must die one day. But, seeing it Up-Close-And-Personal during my recent trip to Oregon and Idaho saying goodbye to family, knowing this fact doesn’t make it any easier on those left behind.

Certainly, life is a journey. Although this is an oft-overused cliché, it is absolutely true.  It is an ongoing quest to develop physically, mentally, and spiritually.  It is a journey fraught with danger as well as delights; filled with friendships, family, and sometimes heartbreaks. But it is a journey we all must take. If we are lucky, this trip will take generations to complete.  For others, it must come to an end sooner.

And, as we approach the end of our journey, or are forced to face the end of our loved-one’s journey, it is a time to contemplate whether every road taken was the right one.  Wouldn’t it be wonderful to look back on your life and not have one single regret?

But to contemplate regret is actually to admit that no action was taken after determining that a wrong turn was taken. It is so easy to just sit back and ride that slippery slope into a lifetime of “what-ifs”. 

Through all of this introspective time, I have determined that my new year starts now. I have resolved that I will no longer let life happen merely to me. I will go and make life happen for me.  Every mistake I make is mine and I had better wise-up and learn from each one of them. Go for the gusto, grab for the brass ring.

Death will come for me; I have no doubt about that.  Although I might not be ready for it, when it does come I want it to say, “GOOD JOB. NICELY DONE.  LETS GO NOW”.  And, I’ll have no regrets. How about you?


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The Wish Tree

Today I went to a an event at a Asian marketplace that they called the "Oregon Summer Fest". It was a gala affair with hot-cooked noodles, lots of kimonos, an Asian band doing covers of the Jackson 5 and Elvis, and, best of all, a Wish Tree.


A Wish Tree is an individual tree, usually distinguished by species, position or appearance, which is used as an object of wishes and offerings. Such trees are identified as possessing a special religious or spiritual value. By tradition, believers make votive offerings in order to gain from that nature spirit, saint, or goddess, fulfillment of a wish (yes, I looked this up on Wikipedia).


In this case, it was a small bamboo tree in a pot, moved into the parking lot area, easily accessible to the masses. The point of the Wishing Tree was to write down your wish and hang it from the tree. Today, it was even made more special for us non-asian or japanese-speaking revelers by having someone read the wish and write on the back of it the same wish in Japanese. How cool is that?! A double-whammy wish!


Anyway, I decided to go with the whole "fate gives you what you ask" philosophy, backed by the fortune cookie I just received last night at Panda Express (which clearly stated that I will have a comfortable life). So, I bought a Power Ball ticket and made a wish. Yes, it is flapping in the light breeze, in both English and Japanese, summoning the great spirits to shower wealth upon me (as well as good health and happiness).


I'll let you know how it turns out.


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