The Absurdities of Flying

Airplanes

Flight #112 and #2301 both en route to Albuquerque

I know that flying is a necessary mode of transportation if you want to see the world.  But if you really think about it, it is absurd what we have to go through.  In 1977 I worked for an airport restaurant loading alcohol and hot meals for Southwest airlines flights leaving Midland/Odessa International Airport (absurdity #1). Midland/Odessa Texas is not on anyone’s list of travel destinations, unless there is oil involved.  Now this is when the attendants wore hot pants (not an absurdity).  I thought I was in heaven.  Fast forward 40 years and you will never, ever, see this done again, the PC police would be out in full force, protesting with hot pants on their heads (absurdity #2).

But here is the real-time absurdity.  To get from Lihue, Kauai to Albuquerque, New Mexico you have to first fly to Lost Angeles, then to Phoenix, then to Houston and then backwards to Albuquerque (absurdity #3).  I would never kid you (absurdity #4).  So if fossil fuels are the cause of climate Armageddon, wouldn’t you think the regulators (absurdity #5) would look for ways to decrease jet fuel consumption and get people to where they need to be (absurdity #6)?  So by the time you get through all these connecting flights you’ve been in the air and in airports for the layovers almost a month (absurdity #7).  For the layovers you have to endure the most uncomfortable seating arrangements where some poor slob the month before you took a long nap and drooled all over the faux leather (absurdity #8).  Then there’s the comfort pets like pigs and furry little yapper monsters with long pointy teeth, laying and rolling around in that poor guys drool, which is all the convincing you need to decide you are going to lean up against a wall and sleep, only to find drool there too (absurdity #9).

Then there’s the food or the substances they pass off as food.  Nine bucks for a ham sandwich.  Your first thought is to make sure the comfort pig isn’t missing (absurdity #10).  On my way back from Okinawa to see my grand daughter and her parents (that’s what we tell them) the menu shows a Mai Tai, my favorite relaxing drink of all time, so I order one and they don’t have any (absurdity #11). Now, WTH?  You make me wait at Narita 5 hours as I watch most Japanese wearing surgical masks avoiding all the drool and you have no comfort beverages!!!! (an absolute absurdity #12)

Then there’s the overhead luggage rules.  They give people an example of what will fit and people walk by looking purposely the other way (absurdity #13).  So now your standing in the isle, while Billy Bob tries to load his golf clubs in the overhead bin (absurdity #14).  This display brilliance and intelligence lasts a week, because he insists it will fit.  Now if you fly coach, because of a budget, you get to sit next to Billy Bob in the middle seat.  Billy Bob is from Arkansas and is six foot five, three hundred and eighty pounds, and a drooler of biblical proportions (absurdity #15).  Now I’m six one, two hundred and twenty five pounds and I’ve given my wife the seat next to the window.  The flight from Narita back to Honolulu is 5 years and 5 hours (absurdity #16).  When you sit in a position so cramped, your buttocks get stiffer than fast drying concrete.  Your legs cramp up and you become a zombie from all the sleep you’ve lost (absurdity #17).

Finally, you arrive at your destination having spent the last decade in transit to experience this thing called – Vacation (absurdity #18). You walk off the plane and immediately people run from the terminal as your buttocks, legs, back, arms and neck are so cramped you have to drag yourself to the luggage section, with eyes blood red, drooping eyelids, Billy Bob’s drool covering your entire body, with at least a pig and a pointy tooth yapper stuck to you (absurdity #19) .  It’s a horror movie, but reality.

I think this is one reason we are moving back to the mainland, so that we can fly to one place and rent a car to arrive at least a month earlier than by plane.  This is of course you read the map correctly or you find yourself back in Lost Angeles on the highways to hell.  Don’t get me started on that mode of transportation.

On further thought, I’m just going to stop traveling, it’s aging me too quickly.

Absurd #20?  You bet your sweet hot pant Mai Tai it is.  Now that I have shared all my intimate thoughts about travel, let’s hear from you and your worst travel absurdity.

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Lizards in Love on the Love Shack Lanai

Planet

Lizard

Before you begin reading this post, do your best to read it with the voice of Sir David Attenborough running through your mind.  It will make it sound intelligent and even educational, or John Cleese if you prefer absurdity.

My wife and I sit on our front Lanai every afternoon to enjoy the beauty of Kauai with a glass or two of wine, possibly a whole bottle depending on the entertainment unfolding before us. I put in a garden my first year here and now it is fully developed and loved by all the lizards.  So much, it has become a brothel of lizard love making.  They have no shame, they just do it right in front of us.  Let me set the scene.

Planet Earth III – The Kingdom of Lizards

There are two prominent studly males named Larry and Liam. Yes, that’s their names – deal with it.  Then there a host of slim and elegant streamlined tailed females named Lydia, Linda and Latisha.  Each day around 4:00 PM they come out into the open and begin a bizarre ritual of mating.  The female acts uninterested (as do all females) while Larry, the biggest stud, does about 20 push ups to gain her attention and at the same time he bleats the loose skin under his throat which is brightly colored red.  This is a signal by the male that he is interested and is also lizard love sign language for,

“Here Lizaard, Lizaard, Lizaard”.  Older people will get this reference.

Now if Linda is somewhat interested, she will curl her tail as an invitation, like a woman curling her finger seductively. Larry sprints over like Usain Bolt to Linda, all the while Lydia and Latisha are watching, calling Linda a sleazy slut and texting pictures to everyone at the bunko club.  Yes, we actually heard this conversation, oh the harsh words and body shaming.  Larry does 20 more pushups and then mounts Linda, where, I kid you not, they do 20 pushups together.  Larry is twice the size of Linda. If she starts to run she is carrying Larry for a ride (no pun intended).  Soon they stop and Larry, like a greco roman  wrestler flips Linda to her side and has his way with her.  Linda’s tail flutters for a few moments, then stops and both lizards go comatose.  They lie there in their loving embrace for about three minutes and then separate into the bushes for cigarettes, cocktails, and insect pupu’s, discussing how to make money on the videos Lydia and Latisha just socially shared on Repitlebook.

Liam then appears and both Lydia and Latisha also do the routine of complete disinterest.  Although I imagine there is fine aroma of pheromones wafting about.  There is no variation in the routine.  There’s no subtle dating, dining, dancing, candy grams, plush teddy bears, snuggy pajama’s presented, or any form of romantic gestures, it’s all about getting in and out and on with your life, because some bird just might swoop down and have a tasty combo snack.

Now this leaves out poor Latisha, who Larry hasn’t stopped watching, so Larry goes at it again, and again, and again. It becomes the Indianapolis 500 of horny lizards, with no evidence of reptile dysfunction.  Soon they are all exhausted and they all leave to climb their rock safe spaces to be alone and gather enough of the remaining sunlight to prepare for the harsh winter nights of Kauai.  Now each of the females have texted each other, shared videos on social media, all wondering why guy lizards are so unthoughtul,

“It’s 20 quickies, then they are off to the pool hall with the boys to brag about their conquests of the day.  All they think about is tail”.

Soon a host of baby lizards will be on their way, growing up quickly and questioning who is their father.  I hear lizard litigation on paternity issues is a growing and profitable trend.  This is when Larry and Liam migrate to the neighbors yard, effortless leaping over the newly constructed immigration wall,  where Lola, Laila, and Lulululupupupupumamamia are practicing their uninterested looks, yet eagerly awaiting. All’s fair in lizard love.  It’s a jungle out there, but hey, the Boys are Back in Town.

Now as Tracy and I migrate to Florida we might get to see alligators engage in the same manner.  I’ll report my scientific data to you then.

Absurd?  You betcha!

Last Blog Entry of 2015

Aswell1

 

Well, 2015 wasn’t my greatest year for writing here on the most fabulous blog of the world (I had readers from 71 countries).  I blame it on living on the island of Kauai since May.  You see here we have gorgeous days and nights with endless flowing Mai Tai’s – ahhhh paradise!  The biggest problem living on Kauai is that you have to be innovative at generating revenue to STAY on Kauai.  This is where I decided to rent out my two spare bedrooms under the fine B&B trademark HippieHootNanny.com

HootNanny

 

You see, I spare no expense for anyone who wants to come enjoy Kauai.  All you have to do is want to live like a hippy and not give a hoot nanny.  Let your dreadlocks flow and have your hitchhiking thumb ready to take you places. We, the management, will give you plenty of amenities such as a floor and yoga mat to sleep on and a fully convertible ironing board/desk.  We care about you and your simple hippy needs.

Hootnanny2

We must warn you however that you might discover you are allergic to Mango and will swell up and itch like a hound dog from Arkansas. That goes for unprocessed Cashews and about 1,000 other varieties of tropical plants and fruits. Medical Marijuana has just been made legal, so you might just wish to swell up.

So if Kauai is on your mind for 2016 and you want to channel that inner hippy in you, call 1-800-HIP-HOOT.  That’s hippiehootnanny.com, yes, that’s hippiehootnanny.com (wink).

Now I must get busy on 2016 resolutions, my top ten are:

  1. Add toilet seat to guest bathroom.
  2. Tie dye the carpet.
  3. Finish bamboo Buddha sculpture.
  4. Complete the rum still.
  5. Scrub 2015’s red dirt off feet.
  6. Take a bath at Hanalei
  7. Erect peace symbol sign so people can easily locate us.
  8. Learn to pronounce Poipu
  9. Pay my lovely property manager a salary for 2015.
  10. Write more awesome posts.

hau’oli makakiki hou (Happy Hippy New Year!)

 

How to Milk a Laden Coconut – The Holy Quest

chimp

Coconuts do not migrate

Since my post on Monty Python yesterday received at least one comment, I think I’m on to something and I want to keep that trend going.  I think coconuts was the key meta tag that lead my reader to me, your humble master of absurdity. For ages I’ve seen pictures of men pretending to be women wearing coconut bras.  I never a knew that there were trans coconuts, but I am tolerant and accepting for those that choose such a path.  I also had no idea on how to milk a coconut so I set out on a quest of discovery.

First, I tried the DIY way – the hands on approach.  I held a laden coconut firmly in my hand and suckled at the pointed end.  Much to my surprise it yielded no milk and I truly do suck… hard.  I thought for certain this was the origin of the term – Blue Hawaiian.  I tried suckling on various sizes of the nuts and still no milk.

Second, I have very dry skin and eczema so I have to use lotion to sooth said skin, including my scalp.  My lovely wife buys two new products, both clearly labeled as having coconut milk, one a shampoo and the other a conditioner. They are also packaged in nice little bottles easy for nursing and milk consumption. Let me say that the shampoo smelled lovely!  At first you don’t notice the burning lice killing chemicals, but then you start frothing at the mouth and your cursing loses all its impact.  After ten minutes of running cool cleansing water through my mouth, I decide the conditioner must be smoother and enjoyable, like one of my wife’s smoothies.  All I can say is that the hairs on my tongue are now under control.  My bowels however… well, let’s not go there, yet.

Finally, I decided to ask a few true native Hawaiians and they seemed so cooperative that they began to smile and even laugh.  Now that’s what I call collaboration!  They hand me two medium sized nuts and told me that the milk won’t be ready until you place them under your shirt and stand on the roadside for 30 minutes in the Hawaiian heat and humidity. Look up into the sky, sway your hips, and sing to the Gods over and over, “Haole, Haole, Hulu, please bring me some coconut mulu.” Well, I was mistaken, from a long distance, of being a rather well endowed member of Castle Anthrax, and was cat-called, whistled and harassed by tourist and visiting sailors.  Still, no milk, but a lot of propositions.  If you visit Hawaii, be wary of eager Hawaiian’s advice, they are pranksters.

Now my loving wife takes me to a juice bar, where a coconut barista whacks off the pointed end, inserts a straw and voila!  Coconut milk.  I then realize – I hate coconut milk!  It’s vile.  Please someone pass me the pineapple shampoo.  Who in their right mind would eat or drink a coconut?  You have to drown it out with heavy doses of Rum and stick a little umbrella in it. They call this a Pina Colada, a French word that loosely translates to “fart in a glass.”  According to the Internet, which never lies, coconut milk has the following medicinal values:

  • Aids in digestion.  Well yeah!  If you can’t swallow it or keep it down, it never digests.
  • Reduces Sweet Craving.  True!  Just makes you down 151 Rum or Kerosene.
  • Improves Heart Health. Well that’s true too.  The heaving and hurling does raise the heart rate.
  • Gluten Free.  Wait, what?  Gluten is from wheat, barley and rye.  Are you suggesting that these crops migrated to Hawaii to a have a fling with a unladen coconut but the coconut rejected the seeding of their gluten?  I’m starting not to believe the Internet and all the Gluten Gurus.

Well, that ends another episode into the sex lives of migratory coconuts and this writers’ quest to understand the mammary glands of tropical fruit.  I am told they are rebuilding the famous Coco Palms resort.  Huh!  I thought coconuts vacationed in Colorado. We have been invited over to many pupu parties and the thought of that prank alone clears my bowels.

Stay tuned, for my next quest is to learn how to milk a Lychee.  Absurd?  You betcha.

GCX3

Pruneface Parkinglot Pruitt

Rev up your engines, the GCX3 model is due this October. This means my daughter is giving birth to my third grandchild this October.  I have two strapping grandsons named Brogan and Beckett (born this August), soon to be All-American linebacker duo at the University of Oklahoma (if I have a say in it).  But my daughter is having a girl, which means I have to polish the shotgun and oil the rusty shovel and get my papa language and evil eye back into practice with the old alert,

You see that girl there young man?  That’s my granddaughter.  You make her cry, I make you cry – capiche?  She wants you gone, you are gone.  See this gun and shovel?  I’m an expert with them.  I’m a grandfather!

My daughter will never admit it, but I scared every single young man who came near me.  They’d run to the door, ring the bell and then run like a banshee back to their car waiting for her to run equally like a banshee to escape.  Luckily my son-in-law is in the military, so he understands rank and respect, well, okay, rank then.

But it dawned on me.  Crap.  I’m old!  Gone are the days when girls whistled at me on the beach, nowadays when I hear whistling I suck in that gut as hard as I can, turning blue like William Wallace going into battle, with the expectation it was all about me, when in fact it was about some dog, marking his spot on my leg.

“Bad spot, bad spot..  you peed on the Uncle!”

EddieAuthorMy lawn guy tells me you know you are old when all the young girls call you “Uncle.”  That’s Hawaiian for “Old Fart.”  In English it means to surrender, capitulate, give in to the pain of a wrestling match you have no chance in hell winning.  So call me Uncle Hamish.  But… I won’t capitulate entirely, because I live in Hawaii and that makes me cool papa #1!  I will now go by the Rap stage name of 1CoolPapa.

Who’s yo daddy, who’s ya papa?
Who can take out the trash and sling the mopa?
I ain’t yo uncle and I ain’t ya momma
Cuz I be beachin, Ima 1CoolPapa.

But, I digress. (If that rendition does not cure you of Rap, nothing will.)

So now as the hot Hawaiian days pass into college football season, I can sit back and plan all the trips we need to take to visit these miracles of life, so that I can spoil the daylights out of them.  It’s wonderful being a grandparent. I cherish every stinking Karma filled moment.  So if my kids get upset with me I’ll go back into my Gangsta Rap mode.

I was yo daddy, but now Ima papa
This gives me perks and for yo momma
You can throw me out and I still be smilin
Cuz during naptime I’ll be dialin and callin

You say the kids are now stinking rotten,
well that’s Karma or have ya forgotten!
I ain’t yo uncle and I ain’t ya momma
Cuz I be beachin, Ima 1CoolPapa.

Guess who doesn’t get invited for Christmas to deliver the drum, microphone, and amplifier sets?

Absurd?  You betcha!

Disclaimer – this rap material is a work of art and 1CoolPapa will sue the #@$%## out of ya if you so much as #*$&^ try to match if with a Barry Manilow tune !

Well That’s Just Swell!

Tracy3

Yesterday we took a little trip to photograph the swells and waves breaking near Kealia Beach outside of Kapaa, Kauai, Hawaii.  The photos of me are absolutely fabulous, but the waves in the background do not do it justice.  These waves were HUGE!!!  Well, to me at least, a middle-aged chubby guy from west Texas who jumped on the curb to avoid being swept away from a rain (a word as unfamiliar to Hawaiians as snow) induced swell of six inches.  So not one of my faithful readers (well, one that I know of) will ever believe they actually were HUGE until I found this video.

See, I told you they were HUGE!  The majesty and power of these swells is generated from the winds of hurricane Ignacio which spared us his wrath.  He might cross over the international dateline and become a trans tropical typhoon and be renamed “Wanton.”  We are supposed to get more swells from hurricane Jemina later this weekend.

Maybe soon I’ll challenge myself and venture into these waters and hang ten, or as many parts as I can, on a tree, in the mountains.  The lovely Mrs. Greenlee will look at me and reply,

“Well that’s just swell.”

I know, I know, extra lame and greasy humor.  What do you expect from a Haole?

 

 

CAT 4 – No More, Sweet Mother of Haggis, No More

FamousHamishCropped

Hamish Goes Hawaiian

Well, we moved to paradise (Kauai Hawaii) to get away from F5 tornadoes in Oklahoma and Arkansas banjo players. What did we run to? Three Category 4 hurricanes with silly names like:

  • Kilo
  • Ignacio
  • Jimena

https://thebeachyquilter.files.wordpress.com/2015/08/jimena-headed-our-way.jpg?w=640

Today is August 31st, which means we have all of September, October, and November for more gut-wrenching weather forecasts.  We’ve also had brutally hot weather, high humidity, and no visible trade winds.  My glass of Mai Tai sweats as hard as I do. So what will the names of the next storms be?  I’m sure they will be meaningless and easy to say, so let’s just heat up the evening forecast a little. Here’s a glimpse:

  • Lolly Broch Alba gu bràth
  • Mudder
  • Nastio (twin of Ignacio)
  • Orcalina
  • Pilikilihumunumunawahiliwaikikipupututunomonomo (Hawaiian for goldfish)
  • Qi (a silly useless word that wrecks havoc in Word with Friends)
  • Reynaldo De La Quith (Rey for short)
  • Sayonara Senorita

That’s eight more storms before we have to consider any more names. But thanks to the generous sponsorship of Famous Hamish Hawaiian Haggis tours we will keep you up to date. You can hear the broadcast now, but only after the Hamish commercial jingle:

“When your feeling hot and humid what do you do?
You reach for hot haggis, neeps, and tatties stew!
Famous Hamish has it steaming and ready to go,
just in time for the hurricane naming show!

And now for the weather,

We hate to interrupt the Jamie and Claire coupling scene tonight on Outlander, to inform you that Category 5 hurricane Lolly Broch Alba gu bràth has made its way into the central Pacific basin“, or

Here’s the satellite image of Mudder in the Pacific and what a Mudder she is“, or

Hurricane Pilikilihumunumunawahiliwaikikipupututunomonomo is expected to intensify to a category 13 storm.  Please stay tuned for further development of Pilikilihumunumunawahiliwaikikipupututunomonomo!”  (As the anchor passes out), or

“Hurricane Sayonara Senorita will make landfall a category 52 storm.  Please place your face between your legs and kiss your sweet haggis goodbye.”

And that’s not all, once these storms cross the international dateline they become typhoons with Asian names like:

  • Lilipoo
  • Moogoogainpain
  • Nocomebackherebuffettmeannofulldayeatyougohome
  • Tofu

Hurricanes are a new experience to me.  I can kid about it here, but reading about hurricane Iniki which made landfall in September 1992 as a CAT 4 hurricane is no cause for humor, in fact, it is outright frightening.  What I learned from reading and talking with those that live here is that the people of the island worked and put their lives back together, truly demonstrating the meanings of Aloha and Ohana, and that gives me great comfort.  I have the highest respect for Hawaiians that have shared their land with my wife and I.

So as I wait for the 2015 storm season to end, Hamish will be hanging low through all this heat.  Learn to smile, learn to laugh, learn to love, and learn to live. We are not guaranteed another day.