Aloha Tim Russert

I was saddened yesterday to learn of the passing of Tim Russert. With the sorry state of mainstream journalism today, we can ill afford to lose one as brilliant and dedicated as Tim. I can only hope that those he mentored will carry the torch for us all. What a brilliant, yet extremely cool guy. It's funny. Russert was always amazed that he, a simple (albeit genius) boy from Buffalo, was able to hold court with presidents and popes. There are plenty of people out there lucky to have held court with him, too. I would love to have spent just half an hour with him over a beer and some wings at the Anchor Bar.

Kudos to NBC for their fantastic tribute to their friend, mentor and colleague last night.

After hearing that news, plus the stories of the boy scouts killed by a tornado, yesterday morning was a real tear jerker.

I think about my dad, who loved politics, and I think about Tim Russert, who was the voice of American politics, and I feel badly that they are going to miss the tail end of the most exciting election year since 1968.

On a cheerier note, Crawford peed and pooped outside this morning. Small miracles can make me smile.

Business has been pretty slow at the winery. We still have visitors. We are noticing, however, more people coming in, tasting wine, buying a magnet and a bookmark, then leaving. So yesterday, I actually left work an hour early, saving the winery a whopping $9.30. That hasn't happened in awhile.

Today I will work on a story and clean the house. We may make a trip to town today, too. If so, I'm determined to get a smoked salmon musubi fix. I've been jonesin' for one of those for days.

A hui hou. Aloha!

Comments

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

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

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.

Mountains and Islands

Search This Blog