Marc
We urge them to bear in mind, that those who would not ask of them a cup of cold water, and a spot of earth ... are the descendants of these, whose origin, as inhabitants of North America, history and tradition are alike insufficient to reveal.
Let them bring to remembrance all these facts, and they cannot, and we are sure, they will not fail to remember, and sympathize with us in these our trials and sufferings. -- The Cherokee Nation to the United States, found in Howard Zinn's A People's History of the United States
Honolulu, Hawaii
One. Due to the extreme time differences between Honolulu and Chicago, I was up and at the beach at six o'clock this morning, watching the sun rise up over the old volcano, Diamondhead, and feeling the sand go wiggle-wiggle between my toes. There was a cargo ship sitting stationary off on the horizon, and it made me immediately think back to a cargo ship in Underworld which carries a shipment so foul, no country on the planet will take it. I was hoping that the real ship I was seeing wouldn't start floating towards me. I had a small adventure trying to get to the beach, as my hotel is three blocks away and there really is no clear cut way to get there. So, I did what any person would do -- I faked like I was a guest at one of those real swanky hotels along the coast and cut through their lobby. PS - I even used one of their bathrooms. I'm, how you say? awesome.
Two. Now it's almost eight o'clock and I've already eaten breakfast, already taken a shower, already been to the beach, and still I don't have to work for another three hours. I will be reading either JD Salinger's The Catcher in the Rye or Howard Zinn's A People's History of the United States on my balcony in the meantime. I'm actually disappointed about my efforts to read the entire Zinn book yesterday during my eleven hour trip out here. I only made it to page 200, which sucks considering how long I had to read it. On the first flight I slept a good portion of the way, and wondered about whether or not I had to pee for the other portion. Maybe I'll elaborate more in section Three. On the second flight from LA to Honolulu, I was upgraded to first class, so was too busy eating and being pampered to really get into a good groove with the thing. You know how it goes. That's a book you've got to sit down and stare at to get through it in any considerable time period. I wasn't able to pull it off. Damn me.
Three. Yeah. For the last week, I've been worried that I might have to pee a lot on the flights out here. I'll say this -- I am not a big fan of the airplane bathroom, with its crowded spaces and noisy flushing mechanisms. And to be forced to sit on one flight for four and a half hours, and another for five and a half hours, was torture. I made sure I didn't drink anything or eat too much before and during the first flight, but once I was switched to an aisle seat right near the bathroom during my second flight, I told myself, "Marc, it's time to just let it go. If you feel like you've got to whiz, whiz." And I did. Three times. My horror decreased with each trip. But, I've promised myself that trips to Hawaii are the exception. Next week, on my way to Alabama, I will be in my seat the whole way.
Four. There's a high-rise office building just across the road from me, and I just realized that they might have been able to see me prancing around my room this morning after my shower. How horrifying. I wonder if, when I scratched my balls, they were making bets as to whether or not I was going to sniff my fingers immediately afterwards, ala Caddyshack. Oh well. Off to the Honolulu Main Post Office on Aolele Street. I'll be there until midnight, most likely. Kind of wastes the rest of the day. Except for my personal reading time which will commence right now.
Up Next: Greatest Hits by Elvis Costello; A People's History of the United States by Howard Zinn; and, Pet Sounds by the Beach Boys.
Tomorrow: Honolulu. Denver. Chicago.
We urge them to bear in mind, that those who would not ask of them a cup of cold water, and a spot of earth ... are the descendants of these, whose origin, as inhabitants of North America, history and tradition are alike insufficient to reveal.
Let them bring to remembrance all these facts, and they cannot, and we are sure, they will not fail to remember, and sympathize with us in these our trials and sufferings. -- The Cherokee Nation to the United States, found in Howard Zinn's A People's History of the United States
Honolulu, Hawaii
One. Due to the extreme time differences between Honolulu and Chicago, I was up and at the beach at six o'clock this morning, watching the sun rise up over the old volcano, Diamondhead, and feeling the sand go wiggle-wiggle between my toes. There was a cargo ship sitting stationary off on the horizon, and it made me immediately think back to a cargo ship in Underworld which carries a shipment so foul, no country on the planet will take it. I was hoping that the real ship I was seeing wouldn't start floating towards me. I had a small adventure trying to get to the beach, as my hotel is three blocks away and there really is no clear cut way to get there. So, I did what any person would do -- I faked like I was a guest at one of those real swanky hotels along the coast and cut through their lobby. PS - I even used one of their bathrooms. I'm, how you say? awesome.
Two. Now it's almost eight o'clock and I've already eaten breakfast, already taken a shower, already been to the beach, and still I don't have to work for another three hours. I will be reading either JD Salinger's The Catcher in the Rye or Howard Zinn's A People's History of the United States on my balcony in the meantime. I'm actually disappointed about my efforts to read the entire Zinn book yesterday during my eleven hour trip out here. I only made it to page 200, which sucks considering how long I had to read it. On the first flight I slept a good portion of the way, and wondered about whether or not I had to pee for the other portion. Maybe I'll elaborate more in section Three. On the second flight from LA to Honolulu, I was upgraded to first class, so was too busy eating and being pampered to really get into a good groove with the thing. You know how it goes. That's a book you've got to sit down and stare at to get through it in any considerable time period. I wasn't able to pull it off. Damn me.
Three. Yeah. For the last week, I've been worried that I might have to pee a lot on the flights out here. I'll say this -- I am not a big fan of the airplane bathroom, with its crowded spaces and noisy flushing mechanisms. And to be forced to sit on one flight for four and a half hours, and another for five and a half hours, was torture. I made sure I didn't drink anything or eat too much before and during the first flight, but once I was switched to an aisle seat right near the bathroom during my second flight, I told myself, "Marc, it's time to just let it go. If you feel like you've got to whiz, whiz." And I did. Three times. My horror decreased with each trip. But, I've promised myself that trips to Hawaii are the exception. Next week, on my way to Alabama, I will be in my seat the whole way.
Four. There's a high-rise office building just across the road from me, and I just realized that they might have been able to see me prancing around my room this morning after my shower. How horrifying. I wonder if, when I scratched my balls, they were making bets as to whether or not I was going to sniff my fingers immediately afterwards, ala Caddyshack. Oh well. Off to the Honolulu Main Post Office on Aolele Street. I'll be there until midnight, most likely. Kind of wastes the rest of the day. Except for my personal reading time which will commence right now.
Up Next: Greatest Hits by Elvis Costello; A People's History of the United States by Howard Zinn; and, Pet Sounds by the Beach Boys.
Tomorrow: Honolulu. Denver. Chicago.
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