Wild Hawg

I guess it's just trying to stay relevant in a world changing quickly and in some way or perhaps it's just one way a guy advancing in age can relive his youth and rebellion in a small way.

Sunday night, with my long 4th of July weekend rapidly closing, my wife and I didn't want to mess up the kitchen nor felt like standing in line at some restaurant pretentiously advertising fine dining. She called Abdul at the Lebanese restaurant and ordered a chicken shawarma plate to go. Firing up Boudreau, I rode up to Prairieville to fetch dinner, wheeled into the parking lot and hit the kill switch next to a Jeep Cherokee.

After I came out, I placed the dinner packet in the rear bag, threw my leg over the seat and hit the starter. When it fired, I heard some kind of horn or chirp noise. I wondered if I had inadvertently armed my motorcycle's burglar alarm but thinking about it, somehow it just didn't seem like the same sound. I rolled the throttle back again and made the engine rev a short bark and heard the chirping again. Each time I revved it, the chirp would sound so I soon discovered that it was coming from the Jeep. My Harley doesn't have straight pipes but it isn't a quiet contraption either so I wondered what would happen if say a very loud noise were produced. I rolled the throttle grip way back and wooohaaaa......Boudreau let out a blast and the Jeep began to "wonk-wonk-wonk-wonk" loudly.

I calmly slipped my bike into first gear, leaned sharply toward the road and grinned broadly as the Jeep continued to bellow. It felt good to feel as if I could still be a nuisance to society even if it was just in a shopping center parking lot in front of Albasha's Lebanese Restaurant.

Wanna know what drives me crazy?

Walking into Applebee's, the maitre de of sorts looks up with a toothy grin and asks, "How many?" "How many what?", I 'm thinking but knowing there's not a soul withing a quarter mile coming in behind me, I look back over my shoulder for a second and look back at her, raising one eyebrow and respond, "Just me !" Maybe she was expecting a bus load to drop out of the sky. For some reason, that just drives me insane.

Oh, and drive in fast food joints. Invariably, you order a double possum burger with no cheese and tomatoes with two orders of fries and oleander dipping sauce, they'll charge you for it and won't be in the bag. So, beckon the kid through the hole in the wall trying getting her to retrieve the last items while holding up what looks like a Mardi Gras parade behind you. The oleander sauce turns out to be catnip but you want to get out of there so bad you drive off with it and decide it wasn't worth the hassle to drive through again.

Something else gets my goat too. There was some kind of company man in the Publix Grocery Store greeting people as they came into the store. He chirps up and says condescendingly, "Good morning, young man!" Good grief, I'm 65 years old and a one eyed monkey would know I wasn't a "young" man.

What's up with the waitresses at Denny's for crying out loud? It makes you think you're in a truck stop. "Hello, Sweety", "More tea, Hon?", "Anything else, Darlin'?" Should I leave a tip or buy a dozen roses?

Although they may be curmudgeons, Andy Rooney and W. C. Fields are looking more and more like sages to me lately.

Peanuts, traveling and the Reunion

What's the deal with me and peanuts? I've been flying so much, every time I get near an airport, I get an almost uncontrollable craving for peanuts. At this posting, Delta Airlines still serve Fisher's Peanuts, so I guess that's where that comes from. I will just have to get over that.

Anyway, I'm headed home for another lightening round of travel to the family reunion on my Mama's side. They'll all coming swarming in from Texas, Louisiana, Arkansas and Florida (that would be me). I may or may not post pictures since many of them may look like me (Lord, help us) and might be the target for litigation or a visit from over zealous cops that have a collection of photos from the post office. I've missed it two years running so I felt like this year I'd keep from embarrassing Mama again.

It's 250 miles north of Baton Rouge, so I'll be driving up with my wife Friday afternoon/evening. We'll hug necks, eat each other's food then all load up and make our way back home. When we get there, we'll upload the digital pictures, look them over carefully and remark how old our cousins are looking while shaking our heads and wondering where the years have gone.

Monday morning will find me craving peanuts once again.

Shuttle Launch

Saturday, I drove south on A1A from St Augustine, hoping to see the shuttle launch. Last year, I walked out on the beach near my office when that one went up but being 65-70 miles away, I barely saw the contrail after someone with binoculars identified it for me.

Not wanting to be right under the thing, I stopped about 30 miles north of the launch site at Bethune Beach instead of going all the way to Cape Canaveral. Actually, I didn't have much choice because the road ended just south of there in a state park. Anyway, I arrived around 2:30 with the launch scheduled for 5:00 PM so I drove around a bit then had fajitas at Mi Mexico, a Mexican Restaurant a block off the beach.

I had my Pentax DSLR camera ready with 300mm lens ready to go but when the shuttle launched, I couldn't make the thing focus and had to manually manipulate it. I managed to squeeze off a couple of marginal pictures as the fireball rose in the sky. It's tiime to be looking for a new zoom lens. Right on schedule, I heard a cheer rise and saw the rocket flame and smoke plume but not the actual shuttle.

By 5:05 PM, all the whoops and whistles had subsided and I found myself in a crowd of people headed back to our cars. I then added seeing a shuttle launch to my "been there-done that" list of things to do and made my way back to St Aug.

When there's a will, there's a way

On Memorial Day, I was out buying a few things that normally could be dropped down in Boudreau's saddle bags. I stopped off at Home Depot for a couple of things I couldn't find anywhere else and while there decided I just couldn't live without a quarter sheet of fiberboard for a project.

With a little roughneck engineering and help of 3 bungee cords, I strapped that stuff on Boudreau and headed home. Folks in the parking lot and on the highway may have gawked but I got my stuff home.

I did discover, no matter how hard you try, it's really hard to look cool hauling plywood on your cycle.

Oh well, who needs a pickup truck?

St Augustine, Florida

This is my third time here in St Augustine so I don't even bother plugging in my GPS unit. I have not noticed any changes since my stay on Anastasia Island last summer. After just four days here, I'm still not sure if I'll be here another week or several months.

St Augustine is a pretty laid back community with a lot of retired or partially retired individuals, many of which hail from the upper east coast. During spring break, the beaches are wrapped up with college and high schoolers and the summer with vacationing families. It's about an hour from the airport in Jacksonville and about an hour north of Daytona Beach.

St Augustine claims to be the oldest continually occupied European established community in the US and oldest port in the continental United States. The historic district is a great place to wander around and spend time looking at tourists who may have an appearance more dorkier than yourself.

Obligatory sights are downtown of course, the Fountain of Youth as well as Ripley's Believe It Or Not. They've dismantled the old Bridge of Lions and at present, constructed a by-pass bridge. So far, I've passed on the alligator farm across from the lighthouse but plan to walk the endless beach. I've settled in at the Holiday Inn and expect little if any excitement, That probably isn't a bad thing.

Back On The Mainland - A Week Off

Recovering from a long flight between Honolulu and Dallas, then on to Baton Rouge, I enjoyed all my family for the weekend. My company was gracious enough to let me lay out a few days before hitting my next assignment which was going to be in Bossier City.

Unexpected problems with Boudreau cost me a couple of days with motorcycle parts laying all over Gary's ( my brother-in-law ) carport. Wrenching isn't my second nature and my hands are still sore from dismantling and repairing the Harley. You'd think it would be possible to remove a starter solenoid without taking everything off except the engine and transmission ...... but, noooooo.

To make sure Boudreau was running fine, I road back up to Baton Rouge to enjoy reading a bedtime story to Henry. I'm gone so much, I almost have to reintroduce myself each time i come home. It's getting easier each time and can see his acceptance groups expanding.

Thursday morning, I loaded up a minimum of clothes and necessities and pointed my chin north for a few days with my mother, brother and a son and his family before I rented a car to head on over to Bossier. After crossing the Mississippi River, I checked my messages and found out my direction would have to change the next Monday.

Arriving in Swartz, I laid over a few hours to watch my grandson, Devin, practice Karate before going on northwest to Farmerville to see my mother.

I spent the night with my mother and on Friday, fixed the hot water heater and visited with my brother some while I used his phone and computer to work out planes, hotels and car rentals for my changed assignment in St Augustine, Florida.

With new directions in mind, I headed back south Friday Afternoon to spend the night with Darren & family and Darlene. Late Saturday morning, we gathered at the Monroe Children's Museum where we had a small birthday party for Hagan.

By 2 PM, I was on the road headed south through Natchez, Mississippi again so i could get back home to change the way I was packed. Monday morning, I'll be on a plane for Florida.

Aloha means Goodbye too.

As make a few preparations to leave Hawaii again, I reflect on my past four and a half months here on Oahu. When I arrived here on Christmas day, my thoughts were, "this is NOT Maui but at least it's close" and felt like this would probably be a short visit.

After I had been here for a couple of months, I actually began to enjoy it while I steadily complained about the traffic and the same time tried to be proficient in negotiating it. I saw the rugged beauty of the North Shore and East Side as well as the ugliness of Waikiki. I watched the sunrise along the Ala Wai canal and stood on Kuhio Beach and watched the sun set. I passed Pearl Harbor daily and visited Chinatown for the New Year. I stayed on the 15th floor of hotels and dived the depths of the Pacific. Most importantly, I've forged deep relationships here that will stay with me for a lifetime.

My business life was centered in the Aiea/Pearl City area and slowly realized I was being pulled deeper into the culture and love of the people here.

Each weekend, I found myself becoming less and less of a tourist or visitor (if that be possible) and went out to learn the heart of this place. I picked the brain of my co-worker for tidbits and curiosities and talked story with clients who could understand me perfectly while I struggled to process their Pidgin phrases. I met shop keepers and hotel bellmen who had come here from somewhere else on their quest for a life adventure and greater understanding of the world and what it has to offer. This culture is deep and complicated and I have not even scratched the surface.

As an old Heinz 57 Caucasian, I was pretty much a minority almost everywhere I visited and began to see bronze colored complexions and puffy Asian eyes as quite the norm. In a curious way, I felt a little self conscious about my deep set eyes, long nose and super white skin that seemed make me stand out like a neon sign.

I'll fly out of here Friday night on my way back to Louisiana and may prove to be quite adjustment period as I get back being comfortable being all white and nerdy.

Buh-bye west Oahu, I'll miss you.

Rounding Third, Headed For Home

Saturday, I realized my time here in Honolulu was slipping away so I took one last turn around the island, checking out the east side, north shore and driving directly into some towns I knew were there but never had driven into, like Mililani. Darlene, my wife, had already admitted she was having "withdrawals" from the two times she had visited me here and is desperate to return, so in some respects the last drive was really for her.

The weekend before, I'd driven through Kapolei and turned north to drive along the west coast up through Waianae to the very end of the paved part of Farrington Highway. It had been reported that this was not a part of Oahu I needed to be traveling in but decided to go anyway. This end of Oahu has it's own beauty and reminded me much of west Maui but unfortunately, I completely forgot to bring my camera (if that's believable).

At this point, I have one more week to prepare my mind for the departure. I've done this over and over again in Florida, California, Alaska and a dozen other places but this has been the longest tour out without a break, (other than a quick weekend at Easter) so it will be a little tougher to say goodbye.

Footwear

Am I missing something? Like when buzz cuts and flat top haircuts for men were completely out of fashion for years then one day, we looked up and ...... voila.....everybody's wearing one.

After work and on weekends, I find myself walking around quite a bit here in Honolulu and most of the time, I have at least one camera on me. I began to snicker and grin as I looked at the footwear of the visitors in and around the hotels and on the sidewalks on Kalakaua and Kuhio streets and coyly snap a picture of footwear. No, I don't have some kind of fetish, I've gone off on shirts, ties, car styles, you name it, I've obsessed a lot of things. I've even obsessed over what the odds are of a penny landing heads up when dropped.

I began to see loads of men, some much younger than myself, wearing socks with dress shoes or socks with sandals. I'm not exactly on the cutting edge of fashion and probably have no room to judge but the guys look so much as that proverbial fish out of water. Somehow, they've survived 10 hours of flying from Omaha, put on their airport leis and run out to the ABC Store and buy 2 or 3 T shirts. Then on day 2, they catch the bus to Hilo Hattie's, get some free beads and buy a much needed supply of Aloha Shirts. BUT......8 year old sandals and socks? Shorts and lace-ups from Zappo's? Give me a break.

There might be a number of points to consider here, so I'll think on these questions and get back with you on it.

• Why does it bother me ?
  
• Is it any of my business ?
  
• Who died and made me the fashion police ?
  
• I may have missed a fashion turn somewhere ?
  
• I've been there too long ?
  

Somebody help me.