Sometimes life comes at ya’ fast. Sometimes it comes at ya’ faster. Sometimes events fuckin’ avalanche your position. Your plans and rational thoughts are buried, burned, shredded, churned like a roto-tiller, hurled it into the void, bent, folded, spindled, and at some point in time they no longer represent roadmarks so much as you stand there punch drunk and wobbly; thinking… “what just happened?”
It is the fifth month of 2025. The most eventful of an exceptionally spastic year. It shuffles toward the exit. I remain. Still standing. Not only standing, but absolutely astounded at how well things have worked out.
Any of that make sense? Don’t worry, all lives are occasionally out of control, the specifics of my chaos are boring. I’m only logging on to say:
- I’m here and haven’t forgotten ya’ll.
- Despite eleven zillion things happening, it’s all for the good.
- Sometimes one must drop the optional (including a much loved blog) simply to grasp at the shore. When this happens, it’s only temporary.
As thanks for your patience, here’s a little story:
I mentioned, almost a month ago, that I was in Hawaii. I also suggested I’m the sort that considered Hawaii only slightly less attainable or realistic than Nirvana. (I’m referring to the Buddhist state of enlightenment and not a defunct grunge band from the 1990’s. Incidentally, I’ve been to Portland; the place where the young go to retire. Nothing about Portland or grunge music or anything in the vicinity is mystically unattainable to anyone.)
Let’s pick up my story with an interesting moment in time.
There I was. I stepped out of my room onto a little porch. I was on the 12th floor of a hotel the sort losers like me can’t afford. The waves lapped slow and steady, relaxing even at the remove of 12 floors. The sun was setting. The tropical air smelled sweeter than any ocean breeze I’ve ever experienced.
I was completely and thoroughly jet lagged. I’d left a bit of my soul behind in the claustrophobic tubes of commercial flight. I didn’t know what time it was, or how long I’d been flying, or when I’d last ate.
I remembered there’d been three planes. I remembered dumping $120 on a taxi ride. (I’m not complaining, the plane had been free-ish to me!) Beyond that, I was thoroughly disoriented.
I didn’t know what time zone I was in. I vaguely grasped enough mental state to remind myself this gentle sweet rocking caressing ocean was the mid (or south?) Pacific, which explains why it seemed so unlike times I’d gazed on the angry surging hypothermic misery of the Puritan’s North Atlantic.
My phone chirped. It was a text from Mrs. Curmudgeon.
“Where are you?”
This is what I know now.
I know that Hawaii is not merely a state, it is an archipelago. The thoroughly modern city of Honolulu is on the island of Oahu. If you say of Honolulu, “it’s in Hawaii”, you just said something stupid. Another, and my favorite of the small number I sampled, is Maui. Say it with me… Maui is an island and not a city. You aren’t on Maui so much as you are in a town that is located on Maui. Ironically, the biggest island, which is clearly and reasonably named Big Island, is not where the action is.
Maui has dozens of places and they all have unpronounceable names. This includes the airport’s home town of Kahului, which lay $120 to the east of where my hotel was located. I dimly registered riding past Lahaina, the scene of a terrible fire two years ago. My hotel was nestled just short of Kapalua in the equally confusingly named Ka’anapali.
I know all of this now. Then, I couldn’t count to ten without six cats and a monkey to help me. I was utterly confused.
“Not the plane. Taxi. But then done.” I texted, capturing the true nature of my mental state.
Then I had another thought. I could neither spell nor pronounce Ka’anapali and had no real proof I was anywhere. I’d had no idea what plane was where. I had retrieved my luggage in a daze. I hadn’t the slightest clue where the taxi had driven me.
I could be on any island anywhere.
How was I to know I wasn’t, for example, on Puerto Rico? My addled mind would probably have better luck piecing together Spanglish than something originating from entirely unfamiliar Polynesian roots. Clutching my cell phone, I looked out at the darkening horizon. Not a written word to be found. Just the ocean breezes and strange Polynesian syntax. I could be anywhere! I could be in Tahiti, or Fiji, or American Samoa. I had a passport in my pocket. Had I used it?
For a man like me, who navigates the emptiest wilderness with considerable confidence, I was adrift. I’d gotten on a plane, I went wherever the fuck the plane went… and I was so very tired.
I looked at the phone. Mrs. Curmudgeon was probably getting worried. I ought to say something.
“I have not the slightest idea where I am.” I texted, truthfully.
“Enjoy your vacation.” Mrs. Curmudgeon texted back, but I didn’t get a chance to read it.
I was already asleep.
Jet lag takes a toll on your internal clock. I’ve been to Hawaii twice and count it as a major highlight of my Life so far. Amazing scenery but the costs are astronomical. ABC stores became a favorite haunt – the hotel room had a mini-kitchen and it saw more action than restaurants.
Very pretty place but a permanent home – nah, I’m good.
Enjoy your stay.
Being in control 100% of the time, is over-rated and ultimately bad for you.
You’ve probably got a point. Lucky for me I try to be 100% in control but often fall far short of that goal.
I’ve been to Maui thanks to relatives with a timeshare. The whole time felt like every time I drive into Austin – I’m in enemy territory and I’d better watch my ass.
Major coincidence. My wife and I were in the islands for a 10 day tour about a month ago. 40th anniversary and I say it took her that long to talk me into the plane ride. Looking forward to your tales.
So you were there to find Soetoro’s birth certificate, eh?
A secret mission!
When my buddy and his new wife came out to honeymoon and I got to be tour guide (was supposed to be best man but some planes flew into some buildings and Pearl-Harbored those plans) he said it “smelled like Africa” when he got off the plane.
Only time I got to see Maui is through the open door of a Blackhawk at night as we were island-hopping to the Big Island and Pohakuloa Training Area.
Sure gets cold when you go from a few hundred feet up to 6200 feet or so, and the crisp air wakes you up quickly after sweating balls and it all dries out.
Aside from freezing, it was probably the best view anyone could get.
I’ve checked out, somewhat, cut back on “screen time” and been disconnected from AT&T online service because we didn’t upgrade in time. When we figured out that it required 5 G “Smart House App” inside our home and phone, we said “FUCK THAT!” and the Satanic Control/Degrade/Kill System it rode in on. Do I recall you being an atheist? No matter, I’m sure you know, “believe” in evil. Eventually we figured out Elon’s Statlink, was the least harmful, intrusive, evil and so simple to set up. It’s slower and more expensive, trade orrs we’re willing to put up with. I’m checking out places I haven’t been in awhile.
Anyway, good to hear ya made it, I’ve heard Hawaii is awesome. It’s not even a fantasy, bucket list item, what with me, 74, taking care of 2 semi invalid, old women, wife and mom in law. I’ve been that tired before. Sleeping in, then coffee are my friends.
Now, on to your later trials, tribulations and adventures in getting through modern life, AKA, Clown World!
Tree Mike
I’m not an atheist but this isn’t a tough moral call. Religious or not, anyone smarter than a rock can sense “evil” around all the spying technology. It’s just flat out wrong.
I’ve considered switching to Starlink several times. I assume I’ll switch to it sooner or later. I consider it inevitable that either Starlink will go evil or I’ll switch to it when my local ISP goes more evil… or both will happen and then I guess I be the last guy on HAM.
BTW: I had two way satellite (HughesNet) back in 2002 or so. It was so annoying that it has taken 2 decades to get over that. The technology was ok. The satellite ping time was slow but who can blame it? And it was 20+ years ago. Everything worked fine. But the company sucked with a capital S. They made it so damn hard to hook up that I couldn’t stand them. Back then I was in a urban house which was oddly unreachable by broadband (even though my neighbors could get it). I used cell phones instead of landline (which wasn’t unheard of back then and is practically universal in urban areas now). Hughes wanted me to install a landline so I could hook up the satellite dish during installation and maintenance. Like they literally wanted me to install a landline for a single 5 minute landline modem call. Such bullshit.
Enough technology rambling, I’m glad to hear from you. I’ve been writing less than usual (for reasons I indicated) so you didn’t miss a whole lot.