Full Moon Rising

Stripping wax from the deck of my Bruce Jones longboard.

President Trump sending the National Guard and thousands of U.S. Marines into a tiny section of Los Angeles is like me calling in a heart surgeon for a bee sting. It's getting crazy out there. 

Meanwhile, I attempt to go with the proverbial flow, rather than dive into the chaotic rip currents. Or do I?

Speaking of which, I sold my log at the monthly Hanalei surfboard Swap Meet last Saturday. Precisely where I purchased said board -- a 9' 6" Bruce Jones model, single fin totally old school -- six years ago, drawing another circle for my life's path. I've been going in circles for 78 years.

I arrived at the Swap Meet early and before I had a chance to lay my longboard on the grass, an old surf dawg greeted me with: "That's a Bruce Jones! Not too many of those around. He's gone, you know, won't be making any more boards."

Five minutes later, I accepted $175 for the BJ: SOLD. The day before when I cleaned her for sale, stripping off wax and noticing all the ding repairs, I considered the possibility that nobody would want this funky surfboard. Beautifully shaped, she had many miles on her when I got her. All the repairs had made her too heavy. I was tired of carrying her to the water. I wanted something lighter. Like a Longboard Lager.

On the precipice of a full moon, I was ready for a change.

View from above Anini Reef last week.

Owning a condo on Kauai is a money pit, a small price to pay for paradise. Owning anything on this Garden Isle in the middle of the Pacific Ocean is an act of acceptance (as if we can really own anything). That is, acknowledging that the climatic elements of wind, rain, humidity always come out ahead of man-made stuff. So you pay to keep stuff working. The material world owns you. I repair screen doors as a matter of habit, as well as trimming, weeding, planting to keep our gardens in shape. Same thing I do at home. I try to keep up with Barbara.

Mystiko keeps his eye on the ball

Our daughter Isabel Bryna and grandkids, Viva, 14, and Mystiko, 7, are embracing island life, growing as fast as the surrounding jungle that never sleeps. The family vibe here on the North Shore appears tight and supportive. Look around and you see a generous population of young parents and their kiddos at soccer games, beach parties and park activities. The kids whose parents grew up here -- many of Pacific Islander descent -- typically have multi-generational support. 

Joseph Kekuku with his lap steel guitar, circa 1904

Hawaiian music received unexpected credit this month with a new documentary produced by PBS Hawaii, Pu'uwai Haokila (Heart of Steel in Hawaiian). The film tells the story of how Hawaiian music influenced American music of the early 20th Century, particularly through the steel guitar "invented" by Hawaiian Joseph Kekuku. Hawaiian orchestras toured the backroads of the U.S. playing a new style with stringed instruments including the ukulele, guitar and violin. 

These bands toured remote locations in the Deep South, Texas and Midwest, introducing unique high tones with the steel guitar, bending notes with a steel slide. Blues players, including blues-original Robert Johnson, as well as country and bluegrass musicians adapted the instrument. You can watch the documentary free on YouTube. Five stars! Another reason to save PBS. They do a marvelous job of covering and preserving Hawaiian culture, as well as serving other local regions throughout the land. 

The Royal Hawaiian Orchestra played at the gala opening of the Cocoanut Grove Ballroom in Santa Cruz in 1907. I had the playlist posted above my desk when I was employed in the marketing department there.

Back to Los Angeles and those circles. In January I wrote a series of posts under the title, Ask the Dust, a quasi ode to author John Fante and his novel (1939) of the same name. My series took place very close to where the current immigration protests are happening in old Los Angeles. I was there in December. Is there a theme here? A clairvoyance? Connection?  

One more question: Why have there been so many airplane crashes since Donald Trump was inaugurated as President?  Chaos breeds chaos. The Kilauea volcano on the Big Island has been active lately. The Hawaiians believe the fire below the earth is a goddess named Pele, a deity known for her temper and passion. She’s certainly disturbed. It’s in the air.

Keep the faith. Aloha nui loa.