There's a tiny rash under my left nostril that's been bugging me for weeks now, so I traveled the coast to Honoka'a Town to see the doctor. He gave it his best guess, shrugged, prescribed some ointment and sent me on my merry way. I expected the journey to be rainy and it was, but only in short, bursts and squalls. For the most part, it was nice. No big surf in the ocean. No great gale force winds. It was just a day, and a descent one at that. Felecia has fizzled and veered northward toward O'ahu and Maui. Tex Fine Foods provided lunch; kalua cabbage wrap, sweet potato chips and a malasada to bring home for dessert later on tonight. Love Tex.
The island seems quiet these days. Maybe it's because the prospect of the now dwindled storm put a damper on things. Maybe tourism is down a little more again this month. Traffic was light along the highway. Tex was not so busy. Service was fast.
I had the radio tuned to a local radio station as I headed back through Hilo, en-route to the hovel. They played a little John Cruz - nice - some Cecilio and Kapono - always fun. I think I've mentioned this radio station as eclectic. They feature many local artists, but also play rock, pop, country, old-timey - all sorts of stuff. As I turned into the pharmacy parking lot in Kea'au, out of the speakers wafted Rocky Mountain High. Rocky Mountain High! What's up with that? I just wanted to buy a 12 pack of regular Coors, rip open a package of elk jerky and cry. As nice as this day was - even the part when I had the patch of skin directly under my nose examined at close range by a cute doctor with a tiny light was OK - eating ono kine grinds, driving the pretty coastline, I still want to go home.
A hui hou. Aloha.
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