I haven’t felt like blogging lately. In fact, I’m planning to cut back a bit so I can concentrate on my writing. Blogging is great fun, but it’s almost as tough as writing fiction because you end up thinking about how you can use something in your blog, the best way to convey what you want to convey, etc. And I ain’t getting any younger. 🙂
This weekend, Mike and I went to Waikiki and spent time at a hidden bar in the International Market. It was fun, and I listened in to some interesting conversations, but now I don’t really feel like giving it the attention it deserves to be a good entry. There was an older man who’d gone to an Elton John concert in California once. He took his mother, then was embarrassed when Elton had giant phalluses and breasts hanging over the stage. And he’d gotten these $365 each tickets for free from an acquaintance who knew Elton’s bodyguard or some such thing.
Then there was the young guy working hard to make ends meet. He lives in Hawaii on less than $10 an hour. He and his girlfriend rent a crappy apartment and live day to day. No college education, no prospects or desire to get one. Except he’s 20-ish now and that’s okay. What happens when he’s 30 something and still working as a day laborer? How long can he afford Hawaii like that?
And then there was the bartender, a decent guy with a 2 year degree in sociology. He said he had fun tending bar and it was a good sociology study for him. I don’t remember if he planned on going back to school or not, or what else he did for a living.
Mike and I shared giant Heinekens, pouring them into two plastic cups and watching the people go by in the market. Heineken isn’t really beer when you’ve lived in Germany, but what the heck. It was a better choice than Bud. When we got hungry, I went and found a chinese takeout close by. I ordered potstickers and beef cake-noodle. It was yummy.
When we finished the beers and dinner (eaten at the bar), we walked through the market, checking out the gold and silver jewelry, listening to the sales pitches. We crossed the street to the Sheraton Moana Surfrider, which is I believe the oldest hotel in Waikiki. It’s a gorgeous, stately old place with a wide veranda and rocking chairs spanning the front. We sat in the chairs and rocked for a bit, and I wondered if the Queen of Hawaii ever sat there and did the same. Poor lady, had her country taken away from her because she was a woman and because Americans wanted to rule where they’d once been guests. Read Hawaii’s Story by Hawaii’s Queen.