Another Island ballad while I seem to have the internets:
The Wife and Sister-In-Law are out at a local joint in Kona called “Torchies” listening to live music and most likely getting tanked. I’m here at the rental, surfing the way Real Men do and intermittently checking on The Kid who’s conked out with jet-lag and a lingering cough.
We walked in the ocean today and paid too much for dinner. I’ve discovered a wireless service called “Oceanic Time-Warner” which I imagine is the first step in Time-Warner’s plan to screw up internet service in Atlantis. It works but it’s slow and quirky, that’s all I’m saying.
We’re hoping to make it to Hilo on the other side of the island tomorrow if The Kid’s feeling better. If not we’ll have another day to bum around here in Magnum’s back yard. Still don’t know what to make of it. It’s a mixture of beauty and the kitschy part of Malibu. I mean, it’s six hours by jet to get anywhere else except one of the other islands! I guess you just have to really love everything about it and never want to leave. Either that or you’re born here and you’re too poor to afford a plane ticket. I could see it if the SST still flew and you could zip to the mainland or Asia in a couple of hours, but even that would be prohibitively expensive for people like me. Unless I lived in this little tree house we found in the parking lot of a coffee plantation South of Kona.
Tempting, but I think Hawaii and I would not be a good fit unless someone comes up with $50.00/one-hour rocket rides from the Honolulu International Space Port.
Right, next generation, get to it.
