Mauka of the Ala Wai

The raspberry-blowing guri-guri mahu

— you don't understand, it's a balance of energy. when i thrust my fist fore and up to launch the ball, it requires an offsetting thrust in the opposite direction in order to direct the ball exactly where i intended it to go

— uh huh. you look like a girl with that backward leg kick

— and yet i've never landed the ball out of bounds and half the time i get a no-touch ace'

— you serve like a girl

— you're a girl but you don't serve like i do and you don't have the control that i do

— you should try to not kick

— i just told you why i kick

— but you look like a girl

— gender is irrelevant. look, it's my style

— mahu

— not what i said

— that's not a denial

— let's date

— you mean — air quotes — date

— and have sex

— you mean — air quotes — sex

— if i told you i'm not gay

— i wouldn't believe you

— hmm. maybe i should be gay then

— see, mahu

— [blows raspberries] let's get some guri-guri

— ha ha the raspberry-blowing guri-guri mahu

-gk

The Piper strolls through His mellifluous berceuse Ensued, mice parade

-gk

Aroused from winter T'is Leap Day Peter reckons Forty winks to add

-gk

Eh, how come no teriyaki plate? Oh wait, that's the barbecue beef. Hmm. Loco moco! Food comatose though, so nah. Hamburger steak! Brings back memories of eating that for dinner. So easy, I should make that and skip the gravy. Now that I think about it, that's just a loco moco without the egg. Geez, now I'm getting hungry. Skip the corned beef hash, I'll just make that when I get back. Mahi mahi! Oh wow, I haven't had that in ages.

Oh sorry. No, I'm not in line. Cannot make up my mind, yeah? For real, so hard to pick.

Speaking of fish, I could have a poke bowl on the other side. Fresh fish sounds good, not too filling. Oh, they have huli-huli chicken on that side, too. Maybe get that? Shoots, I came here to have plate lunch though. How sad if I go back and I didn't eat a plate lunch? Come to think of it, I heard Obama say he was going to come here to get plate lunch on his next vacation. How can you come here and not have plate lunch? Okay, okay, plate lunch, for sure.

Yeah, yeah, go ahead. Still making up my mind. Yeah, I'm sure.

Spam and eggs! It's been a few years since I had spam and eggs with rice. Wait, Spam and eggs or Portuguese sausage and eggs? Definitely not the bacon and eggs — I ate that at home before I came here. Hmm, I should get Portuguese sausage and eggs at McDonald's. What time did they stop serving breakfast again? Or maybe I'll just bring back some sausage with me? Yeah, I'll do that. I'll grab a couple of cans of Spam, too. Hah, the TSA guys are going to think I'm crazy for bringing Spam home in my carry-on.

Sorry, go ahead. It's been so long since I came here, and now I cannot decide. Hah, for real, everything is ono!

Let's see now, beef, pork, or chicken cutlet? I've never made cutlet at home so maybe? Oh, chili! Chili on rice, chili dog, oh look they even have a chili dog boat! Hmm, but Zippy's chili for the win, am I right? Wait, but if I go there, I'm going to have a Surf Pac bento for sure. No wait, I could buy their frozen chili at the store and bring it home. You know, I should get their Zip Pac bento for the flight home. Skip the chili. Hmm. Mix plate? Oh, I can skip the Surf Pac and just get a mix plate here! Yeah, yeah, that's what I'm going to eat. Thirteen-fifty?!? Wow, I know inflation and all, but how come so much? Oh wait, McDonald's meal is like ten, so, I guess not that bad, actually. Alrighty, mind made up, mix plate!

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten-twenty-twenty-five — aww dammit, line so long. Ah well, poke bowl it is!

Next time for sure, plate lunch.

-gk

This Green Land

The sky, at once a brilliant blue, overcome by shades of billowing grey clouds.

The green of the forest on the mountain, obscured, enveloped.

A flowing river of mist and rain, coming down the ridge.

And I, standing between mauka and makai, honua, swept into the rush of drops.

At first a gentle pitter-patter but then a bleating cacophony of a thousand brilliant taps.

Engulfed in this commotion, the mountain and valley indistinct, the fragrance of maile and tree fern rises with the breeze.

As quickly as it came, it dissipates, giving way once again to the infinite blue above.

The ground glistens, remnant drops sparkle in the glint of the sun.

Mahalo Lono, the thirst of our land and our crops are quenched, the verdant land blooms.

-gk

There was no joie de vivre after graduation. In a not-great economy, we were stuck in the paradox of looking for an entry level job but not having the requisite experience befitting someone who had been working for years during school at firms that weren’t hiring anyway. (Why bother trying?)

Or maybe this melancholy was brought on by being pulled out of the hazy but pleasurable stupor that was the life of a college student with an irregular schedule with a dozen different things to do but without the responsibility of having to earn my keep.

We were overeducated in fields with wildly poor prospects for employment, income, and if we’re being completely honest, little interest in participating in. Rather than excitement at reaching an end goal, it turned out it was the process alone that was exciting – something that became clearer over time – even though exhausting.

But eventually, as one must do unless a member of the gentry, we all ended up with jobs. We tried to tell ourselves that our souls weren’t being sapped by the artificial light from 5000K T8 fluorescent bulbs, the buzz of the recirculated air blowing through tinny vents, and the ambitious co-workers eager to climb the corporate ladder by sucking up to the upper rungs while shitting down to us.

And so, we sat there at commencement, eager to soak up all the bits of wisdom served up by the invited speaker, checking in and out while we stared into the empty abyss that was the unknowable future of post-graduation. Graduation filled us with the thrill of passing the milestone of matriculation, but also left us mortified at the emptiness ahead.

The day-after was anticlimactic; it was just another ordinary-day. The rhythm of humanity hummed on, unaware of our presence and our official entry into the adult world. The sun rose and people got ready to go to work and before the sun would set these workers returned to their domicile.

Eat, sleep, shit, and sometimes even shit at work, metaphorically and literally. Welcome to your life.

-gk

A sweet, light bun filled with sweet barbecue pork. You don't need to go to a dim sum place to find one; if you're lucky, the Manapua Man comes to your neighborhood. Steamed or baked? Dessert or savory meal? Eh, why not both?

-gk

Going to the beach? Make some Spam Musubi! Not enough time? Go get some from the store along the way — every place has it. Coming from the beach? Make wiki-wiki and go Foodland to grab some before they sell out! That salty Spam balanced against the nori and white rice is perfect after a swim. Make it two, yah?

-gk

The Japanese call it Inarizushi, but we all call it Cone Sushi. Light brown fried tofu pocket filled with sushi rice that has bits of carrots and roasted sesame seeds. Don't forget the cone sushi platter for the party!

-gk

Two grilled hamburger patties topped with two over-easy eggs with creamy yolk with two scoops of rice on the side, and everything topped with copious amounts of brown gravy. 30 minutes later, food coma or heart attack — but who cares? Broke da mouth!

-gk