Quest for ginger ale proves challenging

Last night, Ron was kind enough to make a quick run to the market to pick up some more ginger ale. Ours was nearly gone and what we had left in the big bottle had lost its bubbles. Flat ginger ale just doesn't cut it. It was about eight minutes 'til six, so he busted on down to Hirano Store, near the end of our road, plenty of time to make it before they close at 6:00 p.m. He got there. No ginger ale. In fact, when he asked, they looked at him like he'd just sprouted a horn in the middle of his forehead. Guess there's not much call for ginger ale here. So, he headed on down the road, not to the next store at Mt. View (their prices are extortion) but the next, J. Hara. Again, he couldn't find it, so he asked.

"Just a second," said the clerk, who disappeared behind the beverage storage door for a moment. A different clerk appeared.

"I can help you," she said. "Right over here." She proceeds to lead him to the freezer section. "We have four kinds," she brags a little, pointing into the freezer.

"Four kinds of ginger ale?" he's bewildered.

"Oh," she says, "I thought you were looking for D'Giorno."

"Ginger ale," he repeats.

"No, we don't have that."

So on he goes, all the way to Kea'au, to Puna Fresh Foods, a much larger store. There it was, right there in the green bottles. Yay! D'Giorno.... sheesh! When he got home an hour later, I suggested he could have just picked up a can of 7Up or Sprite. That would have been fine.

"No, when you're sick, it's got to be ginger ale." True dat.

This morning, I thought I had snapped the top of the creamer bottle Ron left open on the counter. I began to shake it. The experience inspired this re-write of the old Supertramp song, Dreamer:

Creeeeamer,

Now I'm wearing creeeeeamer,

Thought I had the top fully snapped-oh no!

I say, creeeeeeamer,

Now I'm doused in creeeeeamer,

Didn't have the top fully snapped, oh boy!

It also reminded me a bit of that classic Def Leppard tune, Pour Some Sugar On Me:

I'm hot, sticky sweet, from my head to my feet yeah!

I know the hot part is a stretch, but the rest applies.

Gotta go walk the dogs before it rains. Hopps is doing much better, though I walk her separately, since she moves along slowly. We plod, and she gets to stop and sniff whatever she wants for as long as she likes. Doc, on the other hand, likes to motor. He sniffs but never dottles, on a mission to move on to the next interesting part of the road.

A hui hou. Aloha!

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Fruity booty

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Mountains and Islands

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