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Published: March 5th 2009
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Ann had the camera
No picture is the best way to illustrate this posting. But the program makes me add something Ann took it easy. I was the one with an adventure, but it wasn't any that Susan had suggested.
Because the program did not include the first two meals and because Ann was not up to walking someplace to eat, especially given the circuitous route required to get from our room to the street, I went over to a nearby grocery store and bought some portable edibles for our breakfast. The clerk at the store suggested I sign up for their store's card. Despite letting her know I was leaving the next day, she insisted and promptly saved me three dollars!
Pleased with my cheap plunder (we still had more than a week and less than a third of our cash supply), I returned to the hotel by the route I'd followed to get to the store - crossing at mid-block in front of the hotel.
Ann was still hungry after our modest repast. She said she heard that McDonald's served loco moco "sandwiches." She said that there was a McDonald's across the street at the mall.
Brave, courageous, and bold, I set out in search of the treat my beloved desired.
Again crossing midblock, I made good time getting over to the mall. As with so many Hawai'ian facilities, I was able to enter the mall without worrying about any locked doors. I found a directory and, much to my chagrin, there was no McDonald's included among the stores of the mall.
Ann was sure she had seen one there when we came back from Lahaina on the express bus. So I set out to check the streets that surrounded the mall.
Do you have any idea how many blocks that turned out to be? I lost count after the first 289. . . . There was no McDonald's on those streets, nor up nor down from them as far as I could see.
I lucked out on a turn where I felt lost. By this time the streets had somehow drifted away from the mall and I couldn't see any of its buildings. Boy Scout that I've been, having turned left when I came out of the mall, I turned left one more time. And there was the grocery store next to the mall. Saved!
Putting one tired foot in front of the other, I trudged to the store and, again to my good fortune, there at the deli counter was a spam loco moco.
Feeling lighter for my charmed life, I fairly floated across the streets mid-block as I made my way back to the hotel. I was walking up its drive when suddenly a sheriff's car cut me off, lights whirling, and a little siren for extra effect. There went my "mana" (whatever extra spiritual power I bore if any as a ha ole).
The young officer came out and stared at me for a moment.
"You look old enough to have had experience with walk lights," he said.
Whatever happened to the respect for the kupuna Susan had lectured us about and which we had experienced a few days before. Maybe the youth at Hale Pa'i were not the first generation to lay aside that courtesy. Hmmm.
"Many times," I said quietly and respectfully. After all, he had to cross traffic to cut me off. He must really be on some kind of snit.
Yes, I had seen the sheriff's car in the inner most lane a few cars down from where I slipped through the stopped cars awaiting the light change. What are the chances . . . ?
"Then you are aware you are in violation the law and put your safety in jeopardy!" he said with conviction. "Very aware and very careful!" I wanted to say but thought the better of it. He was standing between my wife and her loco moco and I was not about to jeopardize her getting it in a timely fashion.
As a good kupuna, I said, "Eh. . ." and let it go at that. I hoped he would be impressed by my realization that was all an older person needed to say because it implied that my wisdom was intact and he could count on me to know everything life experience could have brought to me. . . .
He reached down as if going for his ticket pad but, instead, turned off the swirling lights.
"You will cross in safety down at the corner where the walk lights control the traffic," he asserted. I knew he hadn't had to cross there but only drive through that nutty intersection. He was obviously not from this part of town.
I just nodded, not even using on the "Eh" gambit.
"I hope none of the deputies will have to remind you again," he said as he returned to the driver's seat. He gave me one more authoritarian glare, and pulled back.
I did not happen to wave good bye. I did not use the "Hawai'ian sign of friendship" (from a bad joke about how drivers showed their displeasure toward a lady who fouled up traffic despite her good intentions). I just simply stepped lively toward the hotel in order to deliver the treat. I decided not to tell anyone because I really was embarrassed to be caught.
Shoot, at 74, if I could cross through heavy traffic in mid-block I was doing something right. But there are no merit badges for that so I've kept it to myself as long as I could.
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Marty
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J-walking ticker
The first time I got a J-walking ticket, I was walking across the street in front of the Book store at Univ Of Wash in Seattle. (many years ago, now) When the policeman wrote me up in his ticket book, I said "You've GOT to be kidding. I didn't even know there was such a thing as J-walking tickets." Probably not the best response - I was new to Seattle-a college student-what did I know? He calmly finished writing my ticket and just handed it to me, and said "Now you know". So I paid the fine, and got a lot of mileage out of my story. Was I careful about J-walking again? You bet! careful to look out for policemen.