This is 2020!

UGH!!!

First time since 1981--

19-friggin-81!!...

..That I decided to drink heavily on New Year's Eve. 

 I'm just lucky I'm not writing this in a paddy wagon--or in a blood-soaked hospital gown.

We were so looking forward to this gala to usher in 2020--but then we arrive at the Sports Bar for a special night of dancing and trivia, and everyone is in formal wear, and I'm in sweats, trying to hide that fact with a glittery hat and a feather boa.

And everything was fine..we were in our comfort zones   when the quiz master started his thing..Jim answering all kinds of questions about math and ancient history, and me acing every celebrity anagram and every question about bidets.

But then, as we both got drunker, Jim yelled out the 'wrong"answer when the emcee asked:  "Who will go down in history as the worst President of all time?" and then I totally lost it  when the same emcee asked:  "What five and only five actors will be nominated for an Academy Award in 2019?"

And....

Gotcha!

What we really did was get in the little car, drive to a little cozy sports' bar, share a little but delicious peanut butter chocolate bomb, and then take a little ride to see "Little Women"..a totally wonderful movie with gorgeous scenery, costumes, and acting.

And it's going to win many awards..bigly.

So now I'm home, petting my little poodle on his little pillow, getting ready to watch the ball drop in my brand new nightgown.

My New Year's resolution is to try to write something every day that'll be read on Facebook with amusement..

How am I doing so far?

In the words of Barbara Walters:

"This is 20/20"

" I once interviewed Fidel Castro!"

"..and.let's make this a good year!"

Cats in the attic

Oh!  I forgot to tell you!

Guess what else I found while purging the attic yesterday?

An idea I had for taking TS Eliot's poem about "Cats" and turning it  into a Tony-winning musical that would eventually  become  a MAJOR motion picture smash during the 2019 holiday season.

It , the script I penned back in 1976 when I was a junior in college, had amazing songs and choreography and jaw-dropping  special effects, and I suggested John Wayne and Katharine Hepburn for the leads, and in my pitch, I got the green light to bring THIS wacko idea to fruition, where  pet felines would  to the movie house and  enjoy freshly-made  catnip while theatergoers enjoyed popcorn

I even suggested that in MY version, the kitties wouldn't use litter boxes..they'd use BIDETS!

It would have made the studio a FORTUNE..

But I was too nervous to go on that flimsy ladder...If only I had gone up there years ago...

I'm going to need a bigger attic.

(And a saner imagination.)

Happy 2020!

Attic-ted to the past

Never ever EVER let your ambitious husband clean out the attic, never!

Because you will have no life--you will get nothing done that needs to get done as all those treasures are uncovered.

What happened to that Karen???

OMG!!

I found letters, and photos, and thin pics of me where I thought I was so damn fat(!!!), and caricatures I drew of Oscar nominated actors throughout the 1980's

I found letters to "boyfriends" that should have remained buried. (I meant the  letters..but probably the sociopaths  should be long forgotten too)

I found full-panel  comic strips I created about people I loved and people I hated. 

 They were equally sad and funny.

I found letters from and to  friends that I still have in my life today.

I found scripts that I wrote for existing shows, and original scripts I hoped to peddle.

I found a personal letter from Carol Burnett, thanking me for  the "All My Children" trivia game that James Donio and I wrote all those decades ago--and a letter from the game company that considered buying it!

I found artwork I created with colorful pens, capturing the essence of my sixteen year old's bedroom  (I apparently loved poodles, long before I knew I'd ever own some!)

I found plays I wrote for summer camp and song parodies I wrote for birthdays

I had NO IDEA I existed!!..Not like that, anyway...

Exhaustion set in, so I boxed everything up(well, Jim did) but now I have easy access to my life.  Nothing is rotting in an attic that I've never been in, not in the quarter-decade we've lived here.

I found the script for "The Golden Girls" that we wrote in 1986!!

It was like..reading my own  obituary, only the obit would be like everything I write..100 pages too long!

I can't believe I was so mad at myself all these years for losing everything..I even blamed my poor late Mom for accidentally throwing it all out.

She didn't.

I didn't.

It's all there, in the technicolor glory of a teenage Karen with a bunch of magic markers.

So many people I know are very interested in geneology..they need to know names and towns of all of their ancestors, and I never cared about that.

I don't need to know a random  name or a birth place..I need to know who they WERE!

And thanks to this big beautiful box, my great  great great great great great great great grandchildren/nieces/nephews will know they had a very crazy, very entertaining relative on their nutty family  tree.

Again..don't go through anything in the attic!

Not if you want to live a life that isn't part of your past life. 

The weirdest thing I uncovered?? My handwriting has stayed the same!

Cat-atonic

You know what they say.

Curiousity killed the...

Cat-loving movie goer?

I am not a cat lover, but I AM a desperate movie goer.

We weren't going to see anything--especially a movie that scored less than twenty-percent on Rotten Tomatoes. 

( We already purchased tickets for "Pain and Glory" and are saving "Little Women", and we weren't supposed to see anything, but then that damn newspaper gave a glorious review to the best diner in NJ, and it was a few minutes away from the cinema, so..when in Rome..)

(When  in Rome see ANYTHING but the movie "Cats.")

Let me be clear:  I would have NEVER seen this on a Saturday night, on a holiday, or  with my son, or with friends...

I only saw it because I was as desperate to see ANYTHING as Tom Hooper was to MAKE anything.

Every sCAThing review you've read is accurate..this was a CATastrophe. 

 It was so bad that it was HILARIOUS. 

 It was so hilarious that Jim practically coughed up a hair ball after I kicked him and whispered, "yeah..Jennifer Hudson can SING, but she won her Oscar for ACTING and she needs to return it NOW!"

His leg was shaking from boredom and he was disturbing my catnap. 

I woke up in time to realize how desperately I wanted to take a tweezers to Judi Dench's puss.

Some of the music was great, I'll give it that.  I don't know what a "Jellicle Cat" is and I'm not supposed to..I just know I loved the Randy Rainbow version, starring Kellyanne Conway with her "Alternative Facts."  

The movie jogged my "Memory" with that happy memory, but it also ruined feline films forever.

Like "Cat Ballou" and "Cat on a Hot Tin Roof" and "Caturday Night Fever."

It really was a bigger bomb than the one "Richard Jewell" was accused of planting.

  (Now THAT's the holiday movie one should go see)

The CAST  of CATS should just  SCAT after ACTS like that.

Time to take out my frustration on a Scrabble player.

We are not cats--we don't have nine lives.

So don't waste the one we have on this movie.

Unless you close your eyes and listen to some of  the purrfectly pleasant hit numbers.

And I guess the choreography was good.

Christmas “presence”

I basically got one present this year that needed to be unwrapped. 

 It was a tube of lavender-scented hand cream from the lady who waxes my eyebrows. 

 ("Oh..she shouldn't have!")

I like my lavender cream, I do. It's the perfect size and color.

But you know what I like even more?

All the "presence" I received..in movie theaters, in friends'  beautifully decorated homes...with my nuclear  family gathered around for a good Netflix offering

The presence of love and laughter and camaraderie and good eats and fun games.

It's all I wanted.

Thanks, Santa!

(I can't believe someone once asked for for nothing for Christmas but his "two front teeth." However, I can relate because of that incident in 2017, when I chipped my tooth on a piece of "no-boiling-necessary-lasagna.")

The chip is subtle and can't be permanently fixed, but if Santa one day read my list and didn't complain about HOW LONG it is..he'd laugh.

He'd encourage me to keep on writing lists.

And he'd  get me a permanent cap.

And he'd  continue to gift me with presence.

The countdown to 20/20 begins!

A squirrel in a pear tree

Luke is totally freaked out by, and I am totally amazed at, all the squirrels scurrying across our pool cover.

 (I'm also amazed I used the correct prepositions--a rare feat)

They are carrying frozen black balls in their tiny little mouths, which I realize are frozen pears from my next door neighbor's tree.

The foodie in me worries:

Aren't these pears much more appetizing when they're thawed?

Are the sons and daughters ever disappointed  with what their parents worked so hard to get?  "Ugh..not again, Mom!..More frozen pears?"

What if they actually don't LIKE pears?

  I myself  like them enough, but I'm not all that CRAZY about them where I could eat pears and nothing else.

Why do I care so much about what squirrels eat?

"Squirrels" would make a great Scrabble word, and you could get a "bingo" for playing all seven tiles if one of the letters was already on the board.

Why am I spending so much time writing about squirrels and pear trees?

If there were a partridge in one, would it be edible?  A nice change for Sunday dinner with the family? Some real protein?

Why am I such a worrier..and such a foodie?

Do I worry because I eat..or do I eat because I worry?

Frankly Netflix I don’t give a damn

Dear Netflix:

Let me start off by telling you how pissed I am at you.

You should NOT be tempting movie aficionados to see award contenders in the comfort of their homes instead of on the big screen, where we SHOULD be seeing them.

I can't tell you how much flak we got by driving over an hour to see "Roma" in the theater last year because we could have stayed home with our feet up on recliners(well..you can do that in most theaters these days) and seen it at home.

I argued that I didn't WANT to stay home during award season, I wanted to be OUT with other film fans.

I WANT to complain to Jim that my recliner button doesn't  work, or that the smell of butter on popcorn(which is NEVER how we get it) was nauseating, or that the Diet Coke we're sharing tastes like it was spiked with cough medicine.

I WANT to be overwhelmed by someone's perfume.  I WANT to get annoyed at those who block my view when I'm trying to read the credits, which always scroll by too quickly anyway.

People used to ask me all the time:  "Why pay to see a movie when it'll be out on video in just a few months?"

And I'd answer, even during those dark days when I was collecting unemployment  and counting every penny, I'd say"Because movie theaters are made for movie lovers.  I need to go to the theater, even if it kills me!"

(Yep..I said it when we went to see Daniel-Day Lewis as "Lincoln")

So, like a rabid dieter, I was very angry at you Netflix, for all these mouth-watering temptations.

I would NOT see "Dolemite is My Name" at home.

I would NOT see the three-hour plus "The Irishman" at home, even if it meant I could unhook my bra.

And there was no way in cinematic hell you were going to tempt me to see "Marriage Story" a movie I knew I'd love, written and directed by one of my favorites.

No way in hell..until you did.

Damn you Netflix, you dangled me with every comment I read on Facebook.  With every glowing review from award predictors.

I knew it was going to be a marriage of "Whose Afraid of Virginia Woolf?" and "Kramer vs. Kramer"  two wonderful films I hadn't seen in over forty years.

So I succumbed to your charms.  I should have been watching "The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel" but I watched you instead.

and.....

I am so glad I did not wait another nanosecond to see the BEST movie of 2019.

It was so raw..so real..so exquisite that it didn't matter that I was laughing/sobbing/gasping/a combo of all in my den rather than in the local cinema.

Laura Dern WILL get that long coveted Oscar in the supporting category.

Adam Driver, who deserved an award for "BlackkkKlansman" WILL win, even with competition this good.

And Miss Scarlet! Miss Scarlet! 

Tomorrow is another day..a day when the Golden Globe nominations will be announced.

And you will win, even 'though you're competing against Reneee Zellweger. 

Biopics are great when they're done right, but you took a fictional character and breathed life into her every move.

I so believed she existed. And I thank you for that performance.

So I forgive you, Netflix.

Just don't tempt me again...

It’s a beautiful Sunday in the..

it's one of those Sunday mornings where we wake up to a poodle demanding belly rubs as we laughingly criticize the unnerving things we tolerate  about one another.

(Jim was making  fun of my "Karenoia" and I was teasing him about all the tics and quirks that make him borderline "Aspie" IMO) when all of a sudden Alexa pipes in with "I'm sorry to hear that."

This only made ME  more paranoid and made HIM even nuttier.

And neither of us can get Mr. Rogers and his theme song  out of our paranoid, aspie brains. 

 It's on a constant loop.

On the ride home last night, after seeing the movie,  we discussed that there were no shows like Mr. Rogers for kids like us growing up in the late '50's-early "60's. 

 He had regional heroes growing up in Cleveland, just like  this Philly gal loved her "Pixanne" and "Sally Starr" and "Gene London."

But with the exception of Captain Kangaroo, there was no universal unifier for toddlers into pop culture.

(Great..now I can't get the theme song from "Captain Kangaroo" out of my "did-I-leave-the-stove-on?" head.)

Evan wasn't THAT obsessed with Mr. Rogers..he watched more Nick Jr. than PBS--but he watched enough to learn some wonderful life lessons, like all kids did who were lucky enough to be exposed to Fred Rogers.

(I should NOT phrase it like that, considering there's a character named "Mr. McFeely")

Evan's childhood was brought to you by the letter "Z"

He loved "Zoom" (which was AWESOME) "Zoboomafoo" (which was a terrific show for geography buffs and animal lovers--he was both and still is) and curiously, in an age where Moms would sell  their first born in order to get a "Tickle-Me-Elmo" doll for said first born, his favorite "Sesame Street" character was "Zoe."

And speaking of children's pop culture and the letter zed, make sure you check out "Zane to the Rescue" for your holiday stocking stuffer,  It's written by my college BFF James Donio and it's absolutely wonderful. (And available on Amazon.

....as is "I'm-sorry-to-hear-that" Alexa..

It's the perfect gift for your kids or grandkids, and it inspired Evan's wit:

(We were watching "Jeopardy" as a family a few nights ago, as we always do. and the "answer" was:  "The opening line in THIS childrens' book was  "where's Papa going with that axe?" and without missing a beat, Evan provided the "question", "what is 'Zane to the Rescue'"?

FYI..Jim and I both guessed "Little House on the Prairie"  but the actual question was "What is 'Charlotte's Web?'"

And nope, the Mr. Rogers song has not left my head yet.

I wonder if Alexa is going to reveal that to everyone not on Facebook

Loving art

Well, this lover of arts and fine writing certainly had her share of excitement and stimulation today.

Up first:  A trip to Pinot Palette to belatedly celebrate a friend's birthday.

  I was excited when I saw what we were going to try to recreate  today..a beautiful beach scene set against a dramatic sunset with horizontal red and yellow streaks that looked just like what I saw in Hawaii earlier this month.

MY final product looked like a four year old had been given too much  paint, too much freedom, and probably too many Reeses cups. 

 It wasn't the instructor's fault.  I just can't follow basic simple  steps

 

 Not in an art class; not while trying to follow a wedding DJ leading the Cha Cha Slide.

 The painting will get buried in the same room as all my other unviewed treasures, but it was a fun time nonetheless.

Tonight I sat down for my third or fourth episode of something Evan's been raving about for years, "BoJack Horseman" and I'm gonna binge my puny little brains out as soon as possible on the entire series..

  This is a dark and brilliant comedy.  And with the fast-talkers and witty dialogue and pop culture references, its kind of like "Gilmore Girls" gloomier cousin.

But best of all, we watched six out of the eight episodes of one of the best things I've ever seen on TV.  Season One was fantastic: Season Two is pure gold.

Jim says I just say this about the BRILLIANT "The Kominsky Method" 'cause I'm getting old and I relate to the characters.

Um..no Jim..I don't have prostate issues, thank you very much.

 I say my thirty year old self would have been just as hooked

.  The chemistry between the leads is explosive.  There is not a false moment anywhere..not in the directing..the acting...

Funny, at one point I said to Jim, "I can't believe that the same guy who wrote "Two and a Half Men" is giving us this!" and..(and this is only a MINOR spoiler alert) moments later, two of Sandy's acting students prepared a bit from the pilot of that show. 

 Chuck Lorre has a self-deprecating wit that I covet with every lame bone in my body.

It is a spectacular show, and I can't wait to finish the remaining episodes...

I'm counting the days 'til Season Three!

Dinner hijinks

wow!  I don't know about the other 49 states, but if you want to have dinner before your movie in NJ, you better get yourself prepared for concession counter snacks if you leave your house after 6:00.

We left at 6:01...the sports bar had an hour wait. (It was only fifteen minutes away, but the movie started at 7:45 and we couldn't wait) 

 Jim had to take two jug handles to try place #2, and the line was out the door.  The food there is mediocre: this wasn't Black Friday where one would ANTICIPATE hungry and weary shoppers.  It was a run of the mill diner.

 We had our third option..Ruby Tuesday's..and there was a six minute wait. 

 To get to the hostess's stand, where we find out there's an hour wait.

Our only option now was the dreaded food court.  We're boycotting Chick-fil-a(for obvious reasons) and decided on "Philly Steaks."

I'm a Philly girl--I like steaks!..but while Jim held our table in this very crowded court, I tried to order something substantial.

I see a teen the size of a sumo wrestler trying to open a plastic bag--I think it contained frozen fries--with his teeth.  He was grunting and moaning, but I saw that the bag finally opened..and I'm positive I saw a little spritz of dribble going in

I tried to place an order with teen#2:  After seeing that both the chicken steak(for Jim) and the regular(for me) both came with mayo and tomato, I tried to place a special order.  (All these joints slather on so much mayo that the bun becomes inedible, but I usually don't eat it anyway)

He says:  "oh, so you only want lettuce?"

I say, "no..the onions, peppers, mushrooms, and cheese are fine..just no mayo."

Again, he says"so you only want lettuce?"

I reply, "no..I didn't say that.  I want a #1 and a #7, but hold the mayo and tomato."

Again, "so you're saying you only want lettuce?"

I was going to give up, to try to place the order with the sumo wrestler who just opened the 80 plastic bag WITH HIS TEETH, but the movie was starting soon.

The food was actually OK, for food court quality, but..both sandwiches were overflowing with.... lettuce.

And we shared a table with two teens who didn't say a word to each other.  They were both buried in their phones and sharing an order of fries and no, I didn't tell them what I had just seen with the sumo wrestler and his teeth.

I'm not much of a mall person...

But the movie was really exciting! I highly recommend "Ford v Ferarri"..but it's almost two and a half hours long, so make sure you eat first.

Happy 30th to my ohana! Maholo!

We are home!  We were greeted by a lot of dog slobber and a lot of dog poop.  

We were greeted by a very kind scale that only showed a two pound increase.

Last night's departure from Kona Airport was insane! 

And I've been to JFK and LAX and....

....just kidding..

......just wanted to see if I still have your attention.  There was one other family besides us checking in luggage.  And my luggage was under fifty pounds!

There's something so wonderful about a Redeye--you leave Hawaii, you eat a bag of chips for dinner, you fall fast asleep,  and before you know it..you're in Denver.  With an hour layover.  And lucky us, we had the exact same plane. The exact same gate. The exact same seats.  Travel has never been this smooth.

I'm trying to come up with the top five highlights of the trip and I just can't seem to do that.

Was it Warner Brothers Studio, and finding myself in the middle of Stars Hollow, Connecticut?  Was it seeing a wonderful documentary at USC, and seeing all those future Speilbergs?  Was it seeing all the fakery that goes into making a mediocre sitcom, making me feel a little bettter about having my dreams to become a sitcom writer never becoming a reality?  Or was it those awful "In and Out Burgers", something never to be consumed at 11:00 PM--or ever? 

Maybe it was all those fascinating Uber drivers, especially aspiring sitcom writer Richard? (And what are the odds I'd meet another sitcom writer on the Hawaiian leg who is going to be a household name very soon.  Her treatment is really good..much better than "Broke.")

Still thinking....

Was it that wonderful tour guide who looked like Donny Osmond?  How about all the beautiful sights we saw in Hawaii, the "Grand Canyon of Hawaii" in Kuaui, or the moving experience on the USS Arizona in Pearl Harbor? 

I know! 

 It was visiting all those movie locations in Hawaii..no..I think it might have been swimming in  the beautiful blue waters in Waikiki.

No..that's not it..it has to be the Road to Hana in Maui, with all those breathtaking views, where even the bad part(long day in the heat) became a good part, as we grabbed a late night snack with three fabulous couples and laughed about the highlights and low lights of the day!

Or..maybe it was meeting Frank and Rick, who had us laughing every second we were in their company.  (I hope we were better company than the people you met on that cruise who said, "we don't mind guys like you..we watch "Modern Family.")

Was it the trip around the Big Island, on the comfortable coach, where we saw steam jutting out of the ground and stood on the rim of an awe-inspiring volcano?

Or how about the nut we met on the Maui beach, who accused us of befriending honeymooners from Toronto just to form a conspiracy against her..to give her a bad vibe?

Oh..I know! The poi! The pineapples! The macadamia nuts!

See how hard it is to pick five highlights??

But I can pick one..and anyone who followed the blog knows exactly what I'm going to say:

Because my number one pick is all about the number two.

I need to get a BIDET!!

Thanks for reading my blog, friends..

And happy anniversary to my better half who tolerates more than any man on earth would.

Here's to thirty more years!

Of coffee, craters and Mayor Pete

And with the few brain cells I have left, I'm going to tackle the penultimate  blog entry.

I wonder how many of you are asking, "was it worth adding on the extension just to tour the Big Island?

The answer is yes, emphatically yes, even 'though  there was not a chicken  or rooster in site. 

Hawaiian Brian took us on our 225 mile tour around the island, and it sounds exhausting, and it WAS exhausting, but it was worth every single second spent on that coach bus..and especially, NOT on that coach bus.

The small, comfortable bus consisted of the ten of us from Collette Tours plus a few additions.

The man and the woman in the front seat refused to get off the bus for the entire twelve hours, except for food and potty breaks. 

 I wanted them to adopt me, but the guy was kind of crabby.

 He'd give me the evil eye every time I  inadvertently made physical contact, which was every time I left the bus, which meant climbing over the leg he extended into the aisle. 

I can't tell you if these were nice folks or not. 

 It simply doesn't matter.

Hawaiian Brian took us to our first stop, a coffee stop.  I was grateful, because if you'll recall, I missed the one in Kauai 'cause I lost my now found  cell phone.

I sipped chocolate macadamia nut coffee..doesn't that sound delish?  But then I became overwhelmed by too many samples. 

"Kona and coffee--the perfect match!"

We watched a coffee infomercial which included a trivia section, but I think I'm better at "Jeopardy!" than I am at coffee.

We were told poi would be on the lunch menu, and to be prepared that it'll feel "weird in your mouth."

It did..but it was better than kale, whichI also tried for the first time.

Our guide pointed to every plant, bush, and tree on this tour..he  puts the "point" in poinsettia,

I thought this was going to be just another day, another reason to spend money in the gift shop, but it was so much more..

We got to see bright yellow fish cooling off in gentle waves. 

There was humidity, yes, but there was also many photo  ops!  And there weren't crowds!  Or cigarettes!

Our guide discussed the typical  wild boar(been in their company many times at cocktail parties) and he reiterated so much that we already knew:

Hawaii has no snakes. They have no predators.

Golf courses are in. 

Coffee is in.  

Pineapples are almost out.

 Sugar is out.

Captain Cook might have had his bones boiled for soup.

We saw Mark Twain's summer home.

We drove by the southernmost town in the U.S. (I don't recall the name..suffice to say it had twenty vowels, plus maybe a random consonant like a "k" or an "h.")

We were told that Roseanne Barr raises macadamia nuts on this island, but using the word "Roseanne" and "nuts" in the same sentence is redundant.

My mind drifted a little..are we going to suffer a similar fate to the Nebraskans we met in the hot tub yesterday?  Who flew from Omaha to NEWARK and then to Seattle and then to Honolulu! ?? Fifteen hours in the air!!  And even 'though they booked months in advance and were originally assigned econo-plus seats, they had to sit in the very back of this very crowded plane.  

Aisles apart from each other.

 In the middle seat.

We're flying to Denver tomorrow night.  Mother Nature better cooperate before we head back to Newark Airport. 

Anyway..back on track...

All of the stops today were magical.  

Black sand beaches..the rim of a volcano..cascading falls.

We saw bursts of steam spurting up from so many places en route to the rim, and I say to Jim:  "Let's make it to the engine room!  The steel is only one inch thick!"

I was covered in vapors and I was in awe. 

We were told that the year 2018 was both heaven and hell after the volcano erupted.  Scientists and geologists track potential eruptions very carefully, but you know me..once I  knew I eluded death by shark attack, I was braced to be engulfed by lava.

I looked like a steamed dumpling by the time I boarded the bus, but that was OK. 

 It was the experience of a lifetime. 

We stopped in the Mauna Loa Nut  shop but had no time to tour the factory, which might have been interesting.  We saw a landing strip in Hilo where Air Force One would park when President Obama would visit the island.

We stopped at the Big Island Candy Shop and sciatica be damned..I turned into Usain Bolt to check it out.

As we were sampling our shared scoop of coffee ice cream, we talked a  lot to Hoosiers Kate and Pat.  I knew they were from South Bend, and even 'though Jim had forbidden me to discuss politics, I just had to send out feelers.

They are SOOOooooo in our camp.

I have no idea why I didn't pick that up from day one. 

 He's a retired college professor, and their son was a year behind(or was it ahead??) of Mayor Pete in school. 

Pat regaled us with the story of meeting Pete and his then boyfriend Chas, and he told us about the friendship between Mayor Pete and Barack.  I was hanging on his every word..or thought I was. 

 My notes are difficult to decipher. Nobody could read what I tried to write as the bus went down some rocky roads.

Kate told me I remind her of Melissa McCarthy, and unless she was implying that I looked like I could write or star in the movie "Tammy"..that was the compliment of a lifetime!

Anna and Mike, also from our original Collette group, were a little non-plussed about the waterfall. 

 Maybe it's because they live less than five miles from Niagara Falls.

We saw lava tubes and waterfalls and I fell more in love with Mother Nature than I already am.

I saw a definite letter "Y" in the mountains.

Rick found a bobby pin, which he is  convinced is a gift from his mother from  beyond.  She wore them a lot: he finds them a lot.

And he was sure it was a sign that something amazing would be coming our way.

He was so right.

The ride back to the Sheraton was the most spectacular journey in my life.  It was outwardly, surreal.

The sky was streaked with bright swaths of neon pink and neon red..of gold and yellow and blue.  It was hard to see if we were looking at the ocean or the mountains  or the sky.

Words could not describe the beauty.

Since the bus was relatively uncrowded, I  had my own seat, behind Jim.

I was practically sobbing, saying things like "I can barely breathe!" and "oh God, oh God, oh God!"

I wouldn't be surprised if someone on the bus thought I snuck a vibrator on board.

It was the most stunning site I've ever seen in my life.

There was no way I was convinced it was  real.  That it was created by Mother Nature.

But it was, and it made this long journey worth every penny we spent.

Even if you've honeymooned in any other Hawaiian Island, it is worth it to visit the big one..just for this site at twilight.

A site that will last in your memory forever.

I may try to blog once more before departure.

What a perfect way to celebrate thirty year of being Jim Amster's wife!

TMI

Morning: If you're not a fan of all things gross and icky, even natural things, scroll down.

I waited three days..three whole days for the damn Colace to kick in and where does it decide to do just that?

In the restroom at tiny Maui airport.

There's only about one quarter of our fellow travelers from Collette Tours who decided to go to Kona in the Big Island, and we're part of the ten.

I rush out of the plane to find a long line in the ladies' room..and signs indicating that  two out of the four toilets were  "out of order"

I was grateful to Jim for not taking his usual 10-15 minutes to reorganize his fanny pack, but it didn't matter..there was a line! With some travelers I recognized from the tour who were en route to the mainland! 

I weighed my options and thought: "I'm not going to ever lay eyes on most of these people again, I'm taking my good old time"

I can't use our bathroom euphemism, since many of you blog readers know who we've named this bodily function after, but suffice to say we made contact.

The women waiting in line were complaining like little old ladies served lukewarm soup at the deli.

"There are only two working toilets here..who does she think she is?  The Queen of Sheba?"

And talk about hogging the TP! 

You can't blame it entirely on Colace..I went to a LUAU last night. I sampled pig and pork and pineapple. 

NOW's the time for that goddamn bidet!!

I finally made my way to the air-conditioned gate, where Rick and Frank shared with me their concerns that I was kidnapped.

I told them that I WISH I had been kidnapped..it's not as embarrassing as having a Colace issue.

Frank is a retired pharmacist from Buffalo who informed us that Colace is pretty much made out of soap.  So when your Mama washed your mouth out with soap when you were a kid who cussed, think about that.

To make me feel more at ease, Rick shared a story about being on an airplane, and the restroom sign flashed vacant, and he opens the door to see a woman with her drawers dropped.  I think it may have scarred him for life. 

We laughed so much while waiting to board..Rick shared a story about mixing his driver's license with Frank's during security screening, and I told  them that Jim's lanyard read "Karen Amster."

Afternoon:  So much for the "relaxing" day.  At 2:45, we were still sitting at the pool bar, waiting for our room to be ready.  We couldn't use the pool because we couldn't pack sunscreen in a carry on bag.

All our fellow travelers had keys, but one couple shared that when they checked out the balcony, they found a stranger's bra and panties. 

I was getting really annoyed--I thought I'd have to  unpack at midnight and dine in my sweaty travel clothes. We made a dinner reservation with Frank and Rick at a chi-chi restaurant with a great view of the ocean at night, where boats would dock and lights were turned on and swimmers in snorkeling gear could await for the appearance on the majestical manta rays.

I hope we get into that room soon..and there had better be a bidet!

Evening:

Okay, all is forgiven and forgotten. 

Dirty clothes were rinsed and hung out to dry, clean clothes were unpacked.  This hotel has stunning ocean views and sparkling pools.  We enjoyed the hot tub and the general vibe.

The dinner was magical..our table had a fire pit in its center, and a wedding was going on in the distance, so we could hear all those great dance songs.  The place was elegant and romantic..Rays on the Bay in Kona, Hawaii.

We're enjoying our dinners and conversation with Frank and Rick and soon the manta rays came out.  They were huge and majestic.  Flat, graceful swimmers appearing on the surface of the well-lit Pacific ocean. We couldn't stop staring...

I suddenly see a weird movement on the rocks.

For the third time this week, I was unable to identify an ordinary house cat.

Off to see a volcano and other wondrous sites for the last full day of  our Hawaiian adventure.  This one should be very special and memorable.

And, if my prayers are answered, hilarious..

Good vibe.. bad vibe

We have three full days left until we depart for Newark Airport, and for me, this is day one of vacation. 

I can finally see the Hyatt Regency of Maui in the daylight, and it is spectacular.

They have a Macy's!

They have benches in the elevator!

They have red velvet pancakes!

But most important of all, they have blue water in the ocean and an inviting pool, and even though I'm taking notes with paper and pen right now, I'm jumping into said pool, so my notes and thought patterns might be blurrier than usual.

The breakfast buffet was served on swan lake, and the swans would swim by, hypnotizing us with their grace and beauty. 

I wanted to take in all the picturesque sights but the meal was free and I discovered two things: 1) I like free food and 2)creamy whipped butter is my opioid.  I can leave the Oxycodone for a happy housekeeper..bring on the spreadable deliciousness.

Jim gave me an early anniversary present--he admitted that yesterday's must-do excursion, the Road to Hana, was grueling.

We've been using that adjective a lot ever since..everything now is grueling.  He got so into my head that I went to the buffet table looking for actual  gruel.

My obsessive, goal-driven husband finally admitted that day ten..er day one..of vacation should be all about the relaxation. 

Donny Osmond told us the snorkeling here is non-existent, that we'd be better off looking for that kind of excitement when we fly to the Big Island tomorrow, where we can take a night trip by boat to see...hmm..was it manta rays or manatees?  Which one killed Steve Irwin?  Which one looks like the offspring of a portabella mushroom and a bath mat?

Now I gotta google and see if they're as dangerous as sharks.

Afternoon update:  "They" were right..this IS the nicest hotel so far. 

The pool has waterfalls, a a wall of brilliant flora,  a rickety bridge, and a kiddie pool with a water slide and water spouts.

What it lacked, at least until I explored further, were steps to get in.  Ladders are not sciatica-friendly. I had resigned myself to make the pool my permanent resting place.

The Paula Deen doppelgänger told us that there ARE steps, near the swim up bar inside the cave, and when Jim shared that info later on with people on our tour, it seems that every guest at this resort went nuts.  Old folks, overweight folks, folks with sciatica, folks that milk a sciatica diagnosis..we're all loving the steps.

Jim and I decided to explore the narrow beach.  There wasn't a chair anywhere on the sand, and not one person was in the water.

Jim looked at the rough seas, the undertow, and quipped:  "this is your roach motel, Karen..you'll go in but you won't come out."

We were ankle deep when a lovely and attractive honeymooning couple from Toronto, not part of our tour,  struck up a conversation. 

They shared their plans to tour the Road to Hana tomorrow, and they're doing it smartly so it'll take less than fourteen hours.  They'll rent a jeep, and the groom told me he's a licensed race car driver so he's not worried about hairpin turns..not sure if that's a good or bad thing.

By the way, the young honeymooning couple from OUR tour, Chicagoans Jen and Tim, told me about their Road to Hana experience.  They didn't go on a van that was packed like a sardine can--they hired a private driver and were joined by one other couple from Boston.  The wife was nice but the husband made business calls the whole time.

Jen and Tim saw every sight we saw..they jumped off cliffs and had great photo ops and swam in the waterfall's pool.  They took a wonderful helicopter ride back,,and got to the hotel by....

 2:30! 

 They swam in the pool!

  They ate dinner at dinner time!  

They donned a Batman and very impressive Joker costume and went to the parade in town!

They didn't ride in a tilt-a-whirl for what seemed like a month.  They didn't have an arrogant driver who dropped them off in the pitch dark a mile away from the hotel, where they were drenched with sprinklers.

If you ever do the Road to Hana, be like Tim and Jen.

Back to the other honeymooners, the ones from Toronto who are not part of our tour...

We were chatting with them, and I gave the bride some unsolicited advice about not letting dirty underwear  left on the floor ruin her marriage.  Suddenly, around the same time the groom was telling us about his visit with the sea turtles, a crazed twenty-six year old approaches us in the water.

She says:  "You four are ruining my vibe"

The four of us looked at each other as she continued: 

 "This is my vacation TOO you know, I spent a lot of money TOO you know, and I don't need to put up with crap from a judgmental clique like you guys."

I offer:  "I met the bride six minutes ago.  I told her not to sweat it if she burns the chicken the first time she cooks for her in-laws."

The crazy lady continues:  "I have just as much right as YOU do to be here!"

I was wondering if perhaps she was the one tossing silverware off of the balcony last night, but then she started to CRY, telling us it's was obvious to HER that we were a tight knit group forming some kind of conspiracy against her.  

It looked like the race car driver was just about to say something when poof!  She walked away, never to be seen again.  

She did not, in case you're wondering, ruin the unofficial day one of vacation.

I'm writing, I'm sipping lemonade, I'm loving the ocean view  and the sound of happy birds, I'm slathering sunscreen and reliving the hilarity of last night, where we strangers started off talking about the weather and how rough the trip was and ending up swapping toilet humor.

Tonight was the farewell luau for everyone in our group who leaves for the mainland tomorrow.

I sampled the poi and thought:  "Meh..Mom's was better."

Tonight was all about the poi, the pineapples, the party dancers and my new manna, pineapple salsa!  It's as succulent as it sounds.

It started to rain as the dancers danced and the drummers drummed and the seven swans went a-swimming. 

I couldn't see a thing anyway, and this was my second luau in a week.

We tried to protect our heads with cloth napkins that made us look like we were taking part in "The Handmaid's Tale."

We were then handed out disposable ponchos that made us look like hefty bags.

Hmm..we get shredding PAPER straws for drinks, but PLASTIC ponchos??

I won't say goodbye..that's bad luck according to Hawaiian tradition..

'Til we meet again..aloha!

Off to the Big Island for a few days!

Trick or treat

Trick or treat! 

Treat?? Click  "like" or  leave a comment.  

Trick??  I'll    chalk up your sidewalk if you don't..

Yesterday was a long and eventful day that felt like we packed in forty eight hours of stress and sweat.  Today, it was more like seventy-two hours, but I'll get to that in a moment.

Here's what you'll need to know about yesterday to catch up:

Jim's sheer panic about misplacing our passports.  (They were under his arm)

Even 'though our flight to Maui was under forty five minutes, we felt like we had a  typical weary traveler's day. 

 We stopped for two excursions, to see a phallic shaped shrubbery needle, and then onto a cutesy, artsy village that reminded us of all those summers we spent in Ogunquit Maine.  We didn't have any lunch scheduled per se, but we did stop for shaved ice, a Hawaiian specialty that was refreshing enough, but it was no lunch.

Once again, it felt like est.no food, no sleep, no bathroom..but I'll admit, very little brainwashing:)..No time share pitches.

...yet...

By the time our luggage arrived and our sweaty bodies were showered, it was too dark to see the pool at the beautiful Hyatt Regency of Hawaii, and here we are, almost thirty hours later, and we still haven't seen any parts of this magnificent hotel that requires daylight.

We were up at 5:30 for our 6:30 pick up to take us for our excursion, The Road to Hana. It was described as a twelve hour journey, which was exhausting enough, but twelve became fourteen and I have some musing anecdotes to tell you why.

We were given a continental breakfast that really didn't interest me, and then we rode for forty minutes or so to another bus station--something I wasn't expecting--only to be given another breakfast.

I was so confused,  I had no idea why we were changing buses, or why we had to  get off the bus just to place a lunch order(brisket/pork/vegetarian)

The brisket, it turns out, was worth every second of confusion.  I don't care what my brain will retain or not..as long as it remembers that fork-tender barbecued bliss..as long as it still has some cells by the time we get back.

Peaches fed us pineapples!

Jim fed George! 

Who looked exactly like BoJack!

George looks like he could commit a felony if denied a banana!

Peaches, it turns out, was our very competent and knowledgeable driver for the 30 hour road trip on a long and winding road with very little guard rails. 

 We cheated death quite often in this mini van that was basically a sardine can, that was basically a tilt-a-whirl...a tilt-a-whirl that became a roller coaster.

I had enough Dramanine in my system to choke a  banana-loving horse, but the zig zags weren't much of a problem, nor was the roller coaster ride up a gravelly mountain.

Peaches reiterated what most of us already knew:  Sugar is out.  Ditto for pineapples.  Coffee is in. Ditto for golf courses and macadamia nuts.

She pointed out a ghost town that once thrived with a sugar museum, and she told us about spring water.

I am much more interested in fauna and flora than I am in all those statues and artifacts we saw touring all those boring museums in Europe.

I tried to take in all her details, the vivid descriptions of every tree and celebrity home, but I realized that I miss my son!

 And my dog!

 And  "Alexa!" 

And my bidet from the Hyatt in Waikiki!!

We stopped to see an amazing array of daredevil surfers, and I wasn't sure if Peaches described them as "surfers" or "sufferers."

She talked about sharks, and someone on the bus said that they don't like people, they're only interested in blubbery things with a fish odor, and that, to me,  was no comfort AT ALL...

I worry that Jim wants to snorkel alone tomorrow, because it was right here in Maui, and just a few short months ago, that a sixty-five year old tourist was killed by a shark, but I tried to relax because Jim doesn't turn sixty-five until a week from Monday. So it probably on't happen

Peaches pointed out a Hala tree, and I was wondering it it was braided and served at local synagogues. 

She pointed out a Philadandra tree, which Jim and I both heard as "full  of dandruff."

Oh!    I got off track again..

Jim and the horse!

It's true, we made a stop to a scenic lookout point, where Jim fed a banana to a horse named George, and then bitched because I didn't take good photos.  

Everyone knows I don't take pictures, even with simple cameras, ever since that time my parents sent me to Canada with two rolls of film and I came home with twenty-four pictures of my eyeball.

This stop was really pleasing to the eye, and confusing.  I asked one of the  NC husbands  if he had ever seen such an unusually shaped square  grey rock, and he said he hd not, because he went over to pet the rock because it was ..a cat...

For the second time on this trip, I couldn't identify a house cat.

Ha!  And I'm still expected to find the mythical man in the mountains, and a man with a sore neck on the map we were handed out at our third or fourth breakfast stop today.

Peaches was a real sweetheart, with a motto that went something like "it's not the destination, it's the journey."

She'd hand hot construction workers bottles of cold water to lift their spirits and she lifts ours with all the stories of legends and mythology. (and by hot, yeh, if you're unerring..some could be in the "Magic Mike" sequel)

We had a GREAT representation from our Collette Tours group, the Hoosiers(Debbie and Jerry) and the husbands from North Carolina, Frank and Rick, and the adorable Minnesota gal named Nancy that I keep wanting  to call Kristen(Bell or Chenoweth--she could pass for either) and her husband Dan, who turns out are big gamers. 

(Clarification:  The don't hunt for bear that I know of..they play trivia games like us and of COURSE I told them to go to Woodloch.  I'm not THAT crazy yet!)

I don't know if they're hunt, but I do know their opinions about toilet paper vs. bidet, because yeah, when we finally sat down to a laugh-filled dinner, the conversation went WAY beyond tomorrow's weather.

Two couples couldn't join us for the hilarious dinner that I'll describe later on,  Laurie(an aspiring script writer from Pittsburgh!) and her husband Ed, who looks a little like Robin Williams, and one of the Sharons from Portland(there are two)and her husband Gary.

Laurie and Ed, in fact, had a similar story to the one we had seeing a taping of "Broke."

They spent seven hours seeing the season finale of "America's Got Talent" that'll air in January and wait a second..as I type this I'm asking myself..how could anyone know how America will vote?  I  think I'm confused

Jerry is the one I originally referred to as "Amazing Race" since his son snapped some photos  on an airplane of the last remaining teams a couple of seasons back.  

He and Jim would make a great team for that show--they were the only ones brave enough to defy the slippery rocks that surrounded the inviting waterfall.  I already have their name:  "Team Death Wish"

Peaches pointed out celebrity homes and "mature" bamboo and skeletons of cars either abandoned on the winding road or buried deep in the ravine.

I felt like a human bobblehead on the journey, but we all were bonding and cracking jokes and singing songs from "The Sound of Music."

Laurie described her career as "a chaser of Adam Lambert"--something you don't see every day.

We made several more stops on this never-ending road to Hana--black sand beaches and lava tubes  and more picturesque ocean views but it was evident by the darkening skies that we were all getting weary..we were hot and tired and hungry and we were actually having difficulty following Peaches' narration.  One tree blended into another, every name with thirty vowels and two consonants became more and more difficult to pronounce.

I'd hear comments in the bus like "Oh..I just took a picture of you taking a picture" or Hoosier Debbie describing her love for clouds, which everyone on board heard as "clowns."

FYI, she LOVES clouds but hates spiders and clowns.  That's all you need to know for now..

We saw mongooses, and cows crossing the highway, and more chickens.  We were practically hypnotized with a slew of information, and I think we all just wanted long showers, fresh clothing, quick dips in the pool, a simple  dinner.

What we got instead was the realization that Hawaiians are as crazy as Greenwich Village revelers when it comes to Halloween..traffic was backed up for miles.

It took eighteen minutes to go two blocks.  The tension in the van was palpable, and when we thought we could no longer bear even thirty seconds more of this, the driver(not Peaches--we had to change buses at the terminal that was at least forty five minutes away) claimed a "coach" was blocking him, so we had to walk another mile to the hotel's entrance!  In complete darkness!  Where many of us we soaked by the resorts' sprinkler system!

The four party crashers who were not with our Collette group but are staying at this Hyatt were complaining more than I was about the walk..one looked like Paula Deen and as much as I like cookbooks, their presence was why the mini bus was overcrowded and we were mushed together.

And I don't even want to THINK about what all that extra weight was doing to  the safety of the vehicle around those sharp hairpin turns.  Two lane roads that couldn't even fit a bicycle going one way.

This is the first and last time you'll every hear me describe "extra weight" in a negative way.

 The steep cliffs felt like they'd  never END.  Each time you thought you were on the bottom, you realized you were not.

We were all full of complaints when our  tour guide, Donny Osmond, greeted us in the atrium.  

He tells us that there was no running water in the entire hotel..and added a "just kidding" seconds  before we lynched him.

The lack of water was a joke, but guests tossing silverware from a balcony was not.

In summary, it was one of those good news/bad news kind of days. 

 The "Road to Hana" was gorgeous and I saw sights that made me question whether or not we were on planet Earth,  but the day was long..very long..

I'm a bit too fatigued right now to tell you about the dinner for eight we had, but suffice to say that these people are great companions, and I wouldn't want to travel with anyone else.

What I DO want is to see the round Maui beach in the daylight!!  It better NOT be a brownish "lake!"

Or maybe we'll  get into a pool.

Bull sharks don't like pool water, do they?

The San Tropez tan

The only concrete proof I have that I'm in Hawaii is this blog, so keep reading and bone up for the quiz.  

That, and the fact that "Tiny Bubbles" in now on a permanent loop in my head.

Or how well I've been rocking the leis.

You wouldn't know I've been here for six days because it's clear I lack that St. Tropez tan. 

Due to all the island hopping and excursions and time spent on the bus, I have had little opportunity to burn to a crisp.

Yesterday's rain was just enough to deter me from using the pool or heading out to the ocean/lake.

It's a shame too, because even 'though the water in Waikiki beach was invitingly blue, the beach itself was kinda crummy. 

 (Literally..it looked liked it was made out of the graham crackers you'd crush to make a pie shell out of)  

And the pool was so small that Shaquille  couldn't stretch out on a pool float.  

Maybe in Maui(we leave in a few hours) I'll have access to a pool and/or an ocean that satisfies me as much as the Caribbean resorts do.

There's probably a scientific explanation for the dull color--beach erosion and sun reflection and  the whatever.

I don't pay attention to science except for all things climate change.  THAT I believe.

So many of my well-meaning fellow travelers, well aware of the sciati-ka-ren  keep asking about my back, but it's the damn leg that's going to get me addicted to opioids. 

(And you KNOW I'm kidding..Oxy isn't made of salsa and chips)

Everyone who has been to Hawaii, who have photos of deep tans as proof, has told me that tomorrow's excursion, "The Road to Hana", is a "Must-Do'".  I've been ordered not to come home unless my shoes contain some grains of black sand. 

So yes, even though this tour requires a 5:00 AM wake-up call(which I'm used to by now) and it'll be a twelve hour commitment, I am game. 

The tour involves dizzying travel and some winding roads and is not recommended for anyone with back issues or for pregnant women.

I am neither, so far...

But "Karenoia" is in my blood, so I can't rule anything out.

We put the “wow” in “luau”

Okay, I'll make time for a quickie...

We had dinner tonight on a plantation.  It was elegant and classy and regal and I never felt more out of place in my life.  There was a cat roaming around the well-manicured lawn, and, believe it or not, I knew what it was this time.

There weren't many entree options--two in fact.  Jim had fish (ahi tuna) and I had ribs that were glazed in shellac, I'm thinking.

We walked a short distance to a huge arena?? Theater???, with the claim that "we put the 'wow" in luau."

Well...I'm not so sure.

The stage was smoky, the actors carried flames and since I was the closest audience member in their running path, I prepared to be scorched and torched.

It was a very odd setting--think of a dream you might have if you binged watched three or four seasons of "Survivor" while donning a couple of Oxycodones.

There was a plot to the love story, but it was as convoluted as an unaired CBS sitcom.

 I tried to follow because I knew I had to explain the photo of me hugging a greasy man, but I was preoccupied with all the confusion  on stage that it was hard to concentrate.

There were feathers and war paint and barefeet and headdresses and people playing with fire and hooting and hollering.  

There were actors who shouted and swayed and sounded like they were blowing shofars on Rosh Hashana.

Lots of grunts. Lots of squeals.

There were tiki torches and flowing scarves that got way too close to the flame.

It was described as cirque du soleil, but  I only saw an odd dream that you forget within seconds of waking up.

Plus, you know me..I kept wondering who in the audience  also had sciatica pain, and who was paranoid that they smelled like shellac, and who couldn't follow the story because they were fixated on the toilet on which Elvis took his last breath, and whether or not it had a bidet.

There were a few  VERY angry men walking around in nothing but towels, and I thought about all that money spent on basically what I had gotten for free earlier in the day, when Jim came out of the shower wondering if I had used his razor.

All in all, this was a fun night, with pleasant conversations and a busload of weary travelers singing on their way back to their hotels.

Now I can say..see you to-MAUI.

Ugh..that was so bad that I should apply for a job as a sitcom writer.

Sleep well..oh wait..most of you already are...

The Smith Bros don’t just make cough drops

It's raining, and it rained a little yesterday, and it'll probably rain tomorrow. 

Remind me when I log on  next to tell you about a friend of a friend of a friend who had difficulty returning tea towels to Target.

Now do you believe me???  I cannot  and will not do small talk.

Today we had a great breakfast with the husbands from North Carolina, and within seconds we knew it was OK to discuss the taboo subject of politics.  We laughed a lot..and shared mutual fears.

We then boarded the coach bus to take us on a brief ride to the pier, where the Smith brothers would take us on a scenic boat tour.

We heard all the legends and myths and fairytales and we were shown every "face" that was hidden in every mountain and its spiritual meaning.

I'm too ADD for most of this but this message is pretty much reiterated daily: 

Here's all you need to know about Hawaii:

 Sugar is out, coffee and golf courses are in.

We're treated to wonderful native entertainment as we board..ladies with flowers in their hair who'd sway and sing while surrounded by men and their instruments.

I watched the hula demonstration, where we we had to pretend we were catching a fish, cleaning a barrel with our arms akimbo, and praying to weather gods.

I tried to participate..I wanted to be  Ginger or at least a Maryann, but I quit after only a few moves.  

I wouldn't be upset if anyone labeled me Sciati-Ka-ren. 

But I had fun watching everyone else do what was essentially th hokey-pokey, but with more vowels and ukes.

We visited a shallow cave and a fern grotto. (I'm pretty sure they're the same thing, but if I can't understand my notes, then you shouldn't be expected to either)

Something about a nudist colony, something about the Coco Palms, something about..oh, who the hell can remember?

The grotto was pretty, I'll give you that, and it looked like the offspring of  Rain Forest Cafe  and the "Land" exhibit in EPCOT.

People were yelling out how many years they've been married and the organizers tried to interpret every kiss and hug, but I'm just way too cynical for this.

I know I sound like I'm complaining but that's just who I am..it really was a perfectly lovely excursion.

Oh man, are the birds here aggressive!  They're beyond angry, especially the chickens and roosters.  We stop for a burger in a nice area by the pool, and one of them actually stared at us while we placed our ORDER.   There wasn't a scrap of food on the table yet!

I should have directed them to wait for the pasta and shrimp lady..there's bound to be many leftovers from her for them to enjoy.

This one particularly obnoxious bird  had zero interest in leaving..he was perched on a chair at our table until I almost killed him with a laminated menu.

You're not allowed to shoot chickens, but nobody said anything about maiming them with the Tuesday Specials card.

We made small talk with our group members for a good hour, and by the time we put on bathing suits and walked to the pool, the rains came with a vengeance.  

Jim tried to walk to the "ocean" with his snorkel to find fish, but instead he found a deserted beach.  I'm glad he thought twice about going in anyway..I didn't want him to become shark bait.

While he was scouting out safe ocean sites, I went into the hot tub, where a bunch of twenty year olds with heavy tattoos were talking about heavy machinery.

It was a sad  futuristic scenario indeed:  Jim dodging a barracuda and me deliberately drowning myself in a hot tub so I didn't have to hear another word about operating a crane.

Oh, and to make matters worse, the jacuzzi was filled with tiny bubbles.

If I couldn't get Don Ho out of my head BEFORE, I certainly wasn't going to NOW.

(He's played a lot around here..ditto for the guy with the uke who liked to strum along to "Over the Rainbow" before he died)

Tonight we have a luau on a plantation.

In case I'm too tired to blog later on, which is likely, I'll say aloha..

..See you in Maui!

Hula pie

I simply cannot master the art of small talk, where the conversation centers around today's weather, yesterday's weather, tomorrow's weather, the weather back home, how much food is on a plate beneath your eyes, how your hometown's sports teams are doing.

I wanted to scream:  "Does anyone want to play the paper straw game?  Whoever owns the straw that dissolves into their soft drink wins!"

I wanted to scream:  "What's your favorite "Gilmore Girl" episode?  Do you like using a bidet?  If not, can you explain why?  Do you have weird dreams? Do you actually believe a banana is an herb, like Hawaiians claim it is?"

We sat with two other couples and had a stunning view of the "ocean."  It's actually prettier  at night, surrounded by lit-up tiki torches,  The color is pitch black which suits me just fine.

My table mate breaks the ice with "who here enjoys Nascar?" and I think I accidentally said I did.

The Big Kahuna comes by to take our order and says, "you must get the best fish you've ever tasted."

Ha..I bet it's never been in Anne Heche's shorts!

He adds:  I know the rib eye is on the menu, but you can get ribeye on the mainland.  

Everyone orders the exotic fare and I lower my head and order the ribeye in a voice that could hardly be heard, but obviously, anyone who still reads this blog knows that absolutely nothing embarrasses me.

The drunk from last night was at a neighboring table.  She ordered the shrimp and  pasta again, and yep, all the shrimp were still on her plate again by the time the busboy came to clear.  This time she didn't share any scraps with Jim.  This time, she just told us how expensive a fifty-five minute helicopter ride is, but I think she was OK.

By the time dessert was served, the conversation switched from Nascar to James Michener,  We even whipped out cell phones to share pictures of our pooches, but I just wasn't feeling it.

The specialty dessert was called "Hula Pie" and when Jim saw neighboring tables being served a slice, he reacted as though he saw a sociopath wielding a machete.

"Oh no..oh no..no no no!" he cried, and then pointed to the dessert, which was as high as a cowboy boot.

Everyone was being served individual slices too, but Big Kahuna was probably still offended that I ordered the steak, so our table was only served three slices for couples to share.

Trust me, it was nothing to be afraid of.

It was macadamia and chocolate fudge and slivered almonds and whipped cream and a chocolate crust and it was so heavenly that I was inspired to don a grass skirt and do an actual hula dance.

(OK..no I wasn't..but that dessert was spectacular)

Night all..see you in the AM

Aunty Alicia takes us to the movies

I apologize for the typos..I barely have enough time to form a cohesive sentence, yet alone write one, yet alone edit one, which is why when I write things like "pineapple TB" you'd have no idea I meant toilet paper,  pineapple TP. 

 I doubt if there's a fruit flavored strain of tuberculosis.  

The difficulty I have typing on a MAC is the least of my worries. 

 Well, I'm not WORRIED....I'm on VACATION..the typing is the  least of my gripes, I should say.

Today a woman named Aunty Alicia took us on a movie tour. It was a fun day, and there were only fourteen of us, but it was also a long and hot day.  

And we didn't visit movie sets(I have no idea why I thought we'd be doing that) Instead, a video was  shown on an overhead  screen, one that was hard to watch on a bumpy road if one has motion sickness.

Alicia  would show clips from actual  movies filmed in Hawaii, or movies that filmed here but were actually taking place on other exotic locales.

The thing is, we were given a long list of the movies we'd be shown clips of(and the grammar police in me was going insane with ll the misspelled names) and then we'd see a clip, and then we'd stop at the exact spot where the frame of the movie was shot to recreate it..

I probably know more about movies than Alicia does.   There's only one theater on the whole island and it only has four screens--but I couldn't drive a tour bus like she can.  

If I asked a passenger to disembark to help me back out of a tight space, that passenger's widow wouod be very wealthy. 

We'd see George Clooney's house from "The Descendants", or a stretch of the beach where the actresses who played his young daughters would run, and then we could pose for photos the exact same way.

But everything was out of sequence.  There was no continuity.  For example, Aunty Alicia would show us the place where George Clooney phoned his lawyer and forty five minutes, we'd see the same spot.  It was as confusing as being in the audience for "Broke" was, and it kind of ruined my favorite Clooney movie.  We'd see the same clip played so many times that it was no longer making any sense.

I am obsessed with all things Woodloch, regular readers know that, but when they show film clips for their "Woodloch Goes to the Movies" game, you know you're in for fifty minutes of fun and camaraderie and challenging your memory.

Here, it was just "didn't we see this scene from "Blue Hawaii" thirty minutes ago?  Why are we seeing it again?

We saw clips from "Jurassic Park" and "Honeymoon in Vegas" and "Donovan's Reef" and dozens more, and Hawaii has done for movies what LA did for TV--ruined it by exposing all the fakery.

We stopped for a photo op and Aunty Alicia superimposed us being eaten by a T-Rex. 

The photo shows only Jim, so I'd rather you assume I was the T-Rex's lunch then tell you the REAL reason I'm not in the shot.  Profiles are not my friend in the first place, but I was instructed to raise my right leg for three--five seconds, and  let' just say the sciatica had other plans.

I  think twelve of the thirty-nine people on our tour the took this excursion are convinced that I am bat shit crazy. 

 I yell, as the bus is pulling away(my view was obstructed but still, I should have known better) "what is that scary orange animal?" and twelve voices plus the driver's answer "cat!"

So if I don't recognize a common house cat, I'm sure as hell not going to make out the "gorilla" that one is supposed to see in the mountains.  I might have seen monkey lips but that's about it.

 We were baited and switched if we like "King Kong."

We see a goofy Hawaiian set clip of a B-movie that was so bad that it should have been an F movie called "Dinocroc Vs. Supergator." 

 It was about a group of naive tourists, just like us, only when they'd ask questions like "We like this "Blue Hawaii" stop, but when will we actually see Elvis's room?" they got eaten by a T-Rex. 

 My question would have been, "on what kind of toilet did the King take his last breath?  Did it have a bidet?"

(Even a T-Rex would have sampled a tastier tourist after that)

We see a clip from "Six Days, Seven Nights" and Anne Heche's character tells Harrison Ford's that something is stuck in her panties that he has to get out, and it was a fish, and I kept thinking that was a little bit misogynistic to have Ford's character do that.  He should stick with Indiana Jones, who never retrieved anything from a scared woman's underpants.

We got to see beautiful exterior shots. and got to hear Jim complaining that he couldn't see the gorilla in the mountainside. 

Aunty Alicia told us once again about how sugar is out but chickens are in.  I've been in Hawaii for three days now, yes, I know.  And words have very few consonants, tell me something new.

Which she did. 

 In Hawaii, bananas are considered an herb, not a fruit.

OK then..

olives are not a vegetable, they are an aphrodisiac.

Oh..it was really cool to visit the land of Hanaalei,  I always wanted to know what Peter Paul and Mary were puffing when they wrote their most beloved song, and now I do.

Justin Bieber likes this island..so does Bethany Hamilton, who lives in Hanaalei,  (The star of "Soul Surfer" who lost her arm to a shark and then became a champion surfer and..I can't believe I'm typing this odd phrase in yet another blog.. became a contestant on "The Amazing Race.")

Everyone on the bus started singing songs from "South Pacific" and that somehow made me very happy. 

Hey..do these travel blogs make you want to travel?  Be my friend?  Stop being my friend?

I was just wondering...

The husbands from NC were a lot of fun today, and they regaled us with their tale of woe of having to switch rooms upon arrival yesterday--their's faced an ugly green bush.  

I don't know about you, but I would have loved to see a weary traveler confront the person at the reception desk with "I didn't come all the way to Hawaii to stare at a bush"

They switched rooms where they got the same view of the pool and ocean we have, but talk about deception!!

which I'm now GONNA!!

The pool was big and beautiful and the dolphins spit on you and it was great.

And then we take the short walk to the shimmering blue ocean with the gently lapping waves that we saw from the balcony.

We walked on lush green lawns and tan sand only to see the ocean was..

..basically..

a lake.

Now don't get me wrong, this would have been a GORGEOUS lake, with the inlet , the primitive cove, and the mountains in the background, but it was... a LAKE!

It's color was pickle-brine green or perhaps tea brown.

We meet some honeymooners from Chicago, and the bride is laughing, because her husband had JUST TOLD HER to stop complaining about the color of the water, to just sit back and enjoy it.

I said to her(Her name was Kathleen) "this is your honeymoon..Wait'll you have thirty years of being told your complaints are not valid"

Kathleen laughed. Her groom laughed.  Jim laughed.

But guess what??  

They had just flown in from Maui, and stayed at the same resort we leave for on Wednesday. 

 And they said the resort is much more upscale than this one, and that the ocean is actually an ocean. 

 Elvis didn't make a movie called "Grayish Hawaii"..we WILL get that blue water, perfect for swimming and snorkeling and relaxing.

But you know me..I'll find SOMETHING to nit pick about.

Off to a very fancy dinner..

The amazing shrimp

The toilet in this new hotel not only has no bidet, it has no door. 

It's also in an odd location, which makes for quite the adventure when one wakes up to pee at 4:00 M.

Are you listening, friends?  I woke up to pee..which means I was SLEEPING at 4:00 AM

Yay, me!

The A/C is spotty, but not as spotty as the WIFI. Something tells me that despite the view of the as yet untried "ocean" and "pool" this hotel is as fake as Loralai Gimore's house in Stars Hollow.  And I'm typing this in the semi-dark because it's obvious the electricity has a mind of its own as well.

We dined with a bunch of senior citizens last night, which meant we dined with ninety-percent of the group we are touring with.

I'm debating whether to share stories about them in case I give them a link to the blog, but A) they are 90 and won't know what the word "link" means and B)nobody reads the blog, including those of you who are merely skim-reading it now, which means I can talk smack about YOU as well.

Some of you(well, ONE of you) told me that my travel blogs are the most entertaining when I describe the cast of characters, so here goes:

Have any of you ever been so drunk in a restaurant filled with tiki torches that you yell at an even louder than usual drunken voice, "I am 72 years old and I'm going on a helicopter tomorrow and I'm scared shitless?"

OK, some of you "maybe" are answering, "why yes I have, Karen! "

BUT DID YOU DO IT WHILE ORDERING MOE WINE?  

In a thick New England accent?

She says, "I could not possibly finish this(pasta and shrimp) dinner..who wants?"

She not only didn't finish it..she looked like she  didn't start it.

OK, blame the wine, but she says"I have six shrimp left and they're good!" and Donny Osmond quips:  "put them in your suitcase..they'll be okay for the return flight" and I'm wondering how many shrimp she had in the first place if she had SIX left.  

(So maybe seafood lovers should come here despite the spotty wifi) 

She says, and I can't imitate a New England accent on Facebook, so just use your imagination, she says:  "Who wants a shrimp?"

I didn't say yes.  Nobody in their right mind would have  said yes.

But Jim did..and she handed it to him with her USED fork! Or maybe it wasn't used because she had six shrimp and a lot of pasta left, but  would YOU have taken that chance? (Jim said the pasta wasn't as good as the fresh catch of the day)

I'm seated between Jim and a Hoosier, and the Hoosier had previously heard me make a comment about all those people ascending the towers of the Waikiki Hyatt.  He heard me ask Jim, "I wonder if this is for "The Amazing Race?" and the Hoosier says "hold that thought."

When we were finally seated at the tiki place with the drunken septuagenarian, the Hoosier hands me his cell phone and shows me what his son had forwarded to him:  Real footage of the last three teams on "TAR" who were talking about the million dollar prize they were going to race for when they got off the plane.

Turns out TAR is as phony as "Broke" and all those other shows.  The contestants told the Hoosiers' son, who told the Hoosier, who told ME so I'm now telling YOU, that there's a lot of down time and teams are really bored between legs.  It's all about producers and their clipboards and their coffee cups.

Hell..WE could be on TAR if THAT'S true..

I'll save you a google search before I prepare for my day touring Hawaiian movie sets:

The winners that year(SPOILER ALERT:  STOP READING NOW IF YOU HAVEN'T SEEN IT) were Cody and Jessica, the most hated couple on "Big Brother" who were better liked by the time they got on TAR

They should have hated themselves for being on Big Brother..I know I would have.

Starving in Hawaii

I will fly no other airline but Hawaiian Air from now on.  Even to visit relatives in Maine and Illinois.  This is the airline of beautiful views, roomy seats, seat belts that could fit three of me,  the airline of everything good. 

 I'll even sacrifice a movie and settle for  a short film. 

 The flight took thirty minutes.

OK..back to reality...flying exclusively Hawaiian Airlines is not an option.

We are now in the Mariott in Kauai, what Hawaii has always been in my imagination. The pool is expansive and gorgeous, the beach is surrounded  by chairs and cabanas and it's for guests here only..the beautiful waters are calling my name, but sadly, they're calling it at 5:00 PM--and the luggage JUST arrived--and we haven't eaten since early breakfast, so I'll have to answer the call tomorrow.

It was a jammed-packed day, and some of our fellow tourists are getting a little weary about all the time on the bus.  I'm not disliking the touring per se, but I wish we had a little more time on arrival day for fun and sun.

Our bus driver Rosario, nicknamed Rosie, was informative and amusing..and he's a guy.  A guy from Newark.  A guy who looks like he might have paid a visit or two to the Bada-Bing.

Kauai is the wettest spot in all of Hawaii.  It is a magical island that's been affected by heavy rains, including the Elvis hotel which is still in ruins.  It's a land of free range chickens and roosters, and we're told they like to show up at the local KFC for photo ops. It is forbidden to shoot chickens, but there are other ways to get them to meet their maker.  Choking, perhaps?

I'm babbling again, forgive me, because the luggage arrived late  and the pool sounds great  but e're not sure we have time to use it  and we're starving and..and..I can't even think straight.

I took a little time to enjoy the view today..and it was spectacular. We visited Waimea Canyon, which is considered to be the Grand Canyon of Hawaii. Cameras were clicking like crazy, and I found a kindred spirit.  While everyone was oohing and aahing over waterfalls and helicopters blending into rock formation, my kindred spirit, a guy from North Carolina who is here with his husband, was comparing notes on vertigo and sciatica. 

The road was eleven miles long and serpentine-like.  I kept my nausea and dizziness at bay, because it really WAS that spectacular by the time the coach reached the summit.  We saw so many chickens crossing the road(and know, I didn't ask why, it's none of my business) but we were told by Rosie that the chickens are not desirable on a dinner plate anyway.  Since their coops were flooded over all these years, they are free range, and eat only things like bugs for protein, thus Rosie explained they have a taste similar to that of a lava rock.  Although I have no idea how he'd know that.

Our last stop was Kauai Koffee,  a coffee plantation with a heavenly scent and many goodies to sample.

I wouldn't know, because despite our guide's warning that coach buses are where cell phones go to die, I spent the entire stop looking for a phone I never even use.  I never wanted to rely on a Smart Phone..I never wanted to be addicted like everyone I know is...but I didn't want to lose the damn thing.

Jim found it..deeply buried in the bus seat.  I have no idea how that happened..I can't even tell you why the chicken crossed the road. 

I took so many notes that I wanted to share with you regarding this beautiful island and its rich history, but I am completely incoherent.

I considered not blogging at all..but I didn't want the half a dozen of you who still read this to worry.

Tomorrow is a tour of movie locations set in this paradise..followed by ample time to use the pool and enjoy the ocean.

Tomorrow I will be well rested, well fed, and coherent.

I'm going to spend all night looking for Karen and I'll bring her back..I promise

Black panties

Ugh..up at 5:00  AM, in bed by 8:00 PM--if I knew I was capable of keeping hours like this I'd look for a real job when I get home. 

Jim's keeping the same hours, and it was he who volunteered to go on the darkened balcony to see if the clothes we rinsed in Woolite were dry enough to pack.

He says:  "everything is dry but your back panties." (Which are my favorite pair) He adds:  "I draped them over the chair."

I looked and saw the black panties were dry..(OMG, there IS TMI in these blogs, isn't there?? )

What was draped over the chair  drying were black SHORTS that came down to just above the knee..Does he really think I wear that as an  undergarment? 

Oh, my Dagwood Bumsteadesque better half..I wouldn't  have wanted  to spend  these last thirty years with anyone else.

Does Dole Pineapple Whip count as fruit?  We shared one last night after a great Chinese meal--the best chicken fried rice we've ever had.  So good that it makes me respect people who post dinner  pics on Facebook, which is exactly what Jim did.

Excited for Kauai!  Excited for a flight that's less than an hour in duration! Excited for our next Hawaiian adventure!

Book 'em Dano..off we go!

Of nut houses and pineapple plantations

I can think of nothing beyond how much I need a want a home bidet, but I will try.

I have a breather before hitting the crowded beach.  I shouldn't be so beach-y--the water IS lovely.  The beach itself?  Not so much.

But today was a fun day.

Our tour guide, Donny Osmond(who tells us he's also been mistaken for Jim Carrey and Rowan Atkinson) describes the day ahead, a bus tour of the beautiful North Shore of the island, with  several stops.

Our first was called the Nut House, and I was preparing to count a lot of MAGA hats, but instead..well, let me describe the orgasmic quality of the macadamia nut a bit further down.

We were lucky enough to get Kimo again(oh God..I HATE how that sounds but it can't be helped, that's his moniker) who emceed our tour with little known facts and big belly laughs.

At first, this little wise guy told us we'd be mostly seeing K-Marts and CVS pharmacies(which would have suited me just fine due to the fact that the coach  bus had A/C) but then he told us it would be more about pineapple plantations and daredevils committing suicide off of eighty foot rocks racing ninety foot waves.

Kimo usually doesn't work on Saturdays.  (I told Jim he didn't look Hasidic  to me) but he liked our company so much that he decided to return, filled with wisdom and one-liners.

Like when someone asked him to identify a tree, he quipped:  "It's a Side of the Rhodus" as he was making his turn.

He talked about volcanos, and roosters, and why the sugar industry is no longer a thing,  but coffee, macadamia nuts, and pineapples still are. He talked about Hawaii's islands--there are 132 in total--and he drove us through the most beautiful and picturesque waves I've seen in awhile.  There were no beaches per se..just surf and surfers and sunshine.

The Nut House was actually quite interesting, and the smells were intoxicating.  There were so many varieties of macadamia nuts to sample, but I'd call what I did more of an inhalation than a sampling.  There were macadamia nuts flavored with onion and garlic, with cinnamon sugar, with caramel, with sweet coffee.  The nuts were roasted and salted and calling my name. 

The day revolved mostly around site seeing from the bus, but I loved what I was seeing.  We stopped for lunch at a place with awesome fries, and then we happened upon a place called "Scoop of Paradise" with unique flavors like Lanai Lemon and Turtle Beach and Unicorn Tears, which is what I got.  (Pink-vanilla with sprinkles and frosted flakes.  Something only a child would order)

The shop was quaint and adorable and the owner had a Philadelphian accent that was thicker than mine. He told us many East Coasters vacation in Hawaii and then return permanently and I can see why.

Our last stop was a pineapple plantation, which is another way of saying we'll see the fruit grown from the roadside but we'll be mostly stopping at a gift shop to buy things like Pineapple Whip and Pineapple toilet paper.  (Damn--I'm thinking of that bidet again)

It's a prickly fruit, and I figuratively melted when Kimo described the typical work day of the picker:  Donned in layers and layers of socks and pants and shirts and pants and heavy boots just to bend over all day picking up sharp stalks in heat that matched a sauna's..

There you go..that's my dream job.

Speaking of picking things up, we picked up some important tips for speaking the language,  like Koa, which  means "important wood" and  "ukulele"  which means "jumping flea."

I know what your thinking..wouldn't it be more important to learn how to say "where is the bathroom?" in Hawaiian?

I'm never asking that question again--not in any language.

I am no longer slightly interested in bathrooms unless there's a working bidet.

Try it and tell me you don't agree