Skip to main content

Getting a head

I'm home! The trip to California was quick but fruitful. My teeth have been repaired beautifully thanks to the amazing Dr. Daniel. I spent short but quality time with friends, including my pal Bailey here. I got a haircut. I got a big-city California fix. I inhaled some smog for old times' sake. I bought some stuff I can't get here, like silicone ice cube trays and Trader Joe's munchies. It was a good trip.
When I returned, I learned that our veggie garden, as small as it is, has produced some fine results. The bean plants are flowering. Some are even sporting tiny baby beans. This cabbage is the only one we got, but it's a beauty, don't you think? We're going to cut it up for stir fry tonight. I also bought some kim chee mix. I know it's really not the right kind of cabbage for that, but what the hey.
On my way back from the mainland, I picked up a copy of Rolling Stone Magazine and learned why the populace has so little confidence in the current economy despite what all the government statistics are telling us. It's because while the riches, top .1 percent of the population gets exponentially richer, the poorest are getting poorer and the middle class is disappearing. That's due to many factors, outlined in clear and obvious detain in the article. Check it out.
I also learned that mega-pork farms are bad. Really bad. If the cruel conditions in which the pigs are kept doesn't get to you, then the pollution these farms generate should. If you don't care about that because you are lucky enough not live near one, then the pesticides and antibiotics they are constantly treated with, not to mention the swill they are fed, should make you squirm. What are they fed? Everything, including the ground up remains of their dead brethren, other pigs who have kicked the bucket because of the horrid conditions in which they all struggle to survive. There is nothing healthy about these pigs. They are the product of Smithfield Foods, the largest pork producer in the world. They are responsible for billions of pounds of pork in supermarkets everywhere, packaged under many labels. My advice: buy organic or all natural, drug free pork, produced locally if you can get it, the old fashioned way by small farmers. It may cost a little more, but you won't glow in the dark after you eat it. And you can rest a little easier knowing you did not pad the pockets of the evil, calloused, money grubbing corporate executives at Smithfield. Curious? Check it out. Rolling Stone Magazine. It's not just for head bangers anymore. Actually, Rolling Stone has long been known for it's cutting edge exposes. Why they insist on putting Snoop Dogg on the cover when they've got great content like this is beyond me.
I had a job interview yesterday at the Volcano Winery. I should know in a day or two if I got the job. Meanwhile, today's paper has an ad for a real job; a communications position with Hawaii County. It pays really well and is exactly the job toward which my degree was geared. So I've just got to apply. A real job could be fun for awhile.
A hui hou. Aloha!

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Born and bred

The creature stared at me, wide-eyed through the florescent glare, Saran Wrap stretched tight across its broad back. Alone in the seafood cooler, he was the only one of his kind, there among the farmed, color-added Atlantic salmon and mud-flavored tilapia, perched on a blue foam tray, legs tucked 'round him like a comfy kitten. He didn't blink. He was dead, red, cooked and chilled, ready to eat. Such a find is rare in the City Market fish department in Gunnison, Colorado. What if nobody takes him home? I thought. This beautiful animal will have died needlessly, ripped from his home, family and friends (Dory, Nemo, Crush and Gill?) only to be tossed in the trash when his expiration date came and went. I lifted him for closer inspection, checked that date, felt the heft of him, scanned his surface for cracks and blemishes. The creature was perfect. I lowered him back into the cooler, nodded farewell, turned to walk away, took one step, and stopped. Shoppers strolled past, stud
4 comments
Read more

Fruity booty

It was a long drive from Glenwood to the northern tip of the island -- three hours -- so for sustenance, we stopped at Baker Tom's for malasadas on the way. My pal Kathy and I were headed to Kapa'au for a hike, one we'd read about in the local newspaper. The couple who run Baker Tom's (not sure if the husband is actually Tom or not) are delightful, with enduring stamina. They're as old as radio, yet they're always on duty, ready to serve behind the counter, as they have for many years, frying, baking, brewing and smiling, there in Papaikou , gateway to the Hamakua Coast. The malasadas are enormous, cheap and delicious, the coffee OK, the tourists all happy to have discovered this place, buzzing with sugar and caffeine. They make a killer pumpkin cheesecake at Baker Tom's, too. It's always a pleasant stop. Ahapua'a . It's a Hawaiian land division, usually a strip or wedge, stretching from mountain to sea. Hawaiians lived in villages wit
3 comments
Read more

On Tennis and Writing and Being Too Nice

I've recently been recruited to play tennis for a local 4.0 ladies tennis league team, referred to as either "Team Debbie" for the nice woman who manages us, or "Have Fun," which is our pre-match chant. We're still looking for a proper name. But we do have fun, despite getting creamed most outings. Last Saturday, we played in the Edith Kanakaole Tennis Stadium in Hilo. Good thing, too, since outside it was pouring, complete with thunder and lightning. It's a substantial structure, covered, yet open all around, most famous for hosting the annual Merrie Monarch Hula Festival in April. It was about 85 degrees outside and 100 percent humidity, air so thick it took three sucks of my albuterol inhaler just to breath. Several of us arrived early to warm up, but after twenty minutes' steady rallying with my teammate, Keiko, the human backboard, I was drenched. I played doubles with a nice, extremely fit and excellent ground-stroker named Cynthia from Pahoa.
4 comments
Read more