It's the second annual January Hawaiian vacation.
It has been so chill. Grand Mamoo Guy took us to the airport. Our plane was half empty, so we moved to better seats. Domestic travel for pleasure! Only 5 hours! No customs, no immigration, and plenty Japanese food at the ABC store when you get there.
We had a few hours to kill, so we went to the La Mariana Sailing Club for lunch. It was a little slice of heaven right there: a super down home yacht harbor that has a funky bar decorated with lovingly collected second-hand tiki bar fittings. The customers seemed to be mainly locals, which was also cool. One of them, a MINISCULE little old man stopped to pay his respects to Corky, the house parrot, cooing “How are you, you dirty little dog?” Corky bites. We reviewed the travel notes I had compiled while I was in bed last weekend, and headed out to our hotel.
Then we made our ritual pilgrimage. We got to the hotel, changed our clothes, grabbed our ukes and walked across the street to play on the sand on Waikiki beach while the sun set. It was kind of awesome. After that, I was a little worn out (gotta take it easy after being sick) so we just ate dinner close by at the Japanese restaurant in the Hawaiian Village. This place was the scene of the best quote of last year’s visit. A guy and his mom were dining together and mainly discussing his love life. She was from out of state. When the food came, the son carefully identified all of the items on the plate, pausing to say in his best southern twang “Mama, that’s wasabi. It’ll burn your boobies off.”
Words to live by.
Then we wrapped up the night watching local television. I think I'm having a good time.
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