Think About It Hawaii

You often don’t know where you will find inspiration… it just happens. And when inspiration does occur, it can be wonderful, perhaps even life-changing, if not life-affirming. Sometimes you don’t realize it for years; sometimes, you know it on the spot.

And so it was for me, as a young father, when I first saw Gaylord Carreira doing his things at University of Hawai`i football games 35-years ago. Respected sportswriter, Stephen Tsai, called Gaylord “…an inspiration to the UH football team and its fans” in his fitting Honolulu Star-Advertiser tribute last week. Gaylord recently passed away, but not before leaving his mark on a legion of fans, UH footballers, and on one very impressionable young father.

I worked at KHNL and KFVE, the proud home of UH sports for 27-years, during the time when Gaylord delighted fans in person and on TV with his glorious routine of charging out onto the field from the UH sidelines after each UH kickoff to “simply” retrieve the football tee. Gaylord, a crowd-pleaser, would then summersault with tee in hand as he came off the pitch, culminating in a kneeling stance with three full circle, Pete Townshend-esque arm circles, while the crowd, in sync, all yelled, “woomp-woomp-woomp”!

I told my kids watching that one should seek to find joy in life, find one’s passions, make a difference if possible, and here was Gaylord doing so for the masses every week on UH football Saturdays. The fact that Gaylord had Down Syndrome reminded me to remind my kids that no one should dictate what you can or cannot do with any kind of so-called disability, no matter the size. And we all need reminding…

I saw Gaylord numerous times over the years at UH events and we always greeted each other with a simple (but solid) high five. What I didn’t know then was that he was a great athlete in his own right who won numerous Special Olympic medals, could shoot free throws with the best of ‘em, and apparently also bowled people over with his 10-pin prowess. 

According to a relative cited in Tsai’s article, Gaylord’s parents simply wouldn’t allow Gaylord to not get involved, to not follow his passion for and with his beloved Rainbow Warriors. For many, many years. That smile and passion inspired and taught my kids, tens of thousands of on-lookers, and me. Aloha, Gaylord. Woomp-woomp-woomp!

Think about it…

‘Iolani’s “One Team” concept was on full display last month as the Raiders won their 10^th boys’ soccer championship over the past half-century, its first title since 2014. And like many other games throughout this season, the #2 seeded Raiders had to overcome adversity to pull this one out, rallying to win in the finals (2-1) via penalty kicks over a savvy, #1-ranked Mililani squad.

One of the great stories within this great story (if you’re an `Iolani fan, or perhaps just a fan of sheer perseverance) is the tale of Kaleb Abara, an `Iolani senior who has seen his personal share of adversity… from the very start. He spent hours after birth in the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit (NICU) to ensure that he didn’t have a suspected skull fracture from the delivery. 

He’s overcome a childhood eye ailment and has dealt with long-time allergies to eggs, nuts, shellfish and dairy products; tough to be a kid at parties when you can’t eat cake; ever. He was also diagnosed with asthma and uses an inhaler- not an pleasant proposition for anyone, let alone someone expecting to play high level soccer. Five years ago while attending a Colorado soccer camp, he side-tripped to the E.R. to have his injured wrist x-rayed. He caught a break then- no break.

His luck wasn’t as good 14-months ago when he tore his ACL against the same Mililani team he just helped vanquish in the state finals. After arduous rehab, he’s returned to form, helping `Iolani begin its championship roll this past fall, 10-months after knee surgery. He became the team’s “go to” guy for penalty kicks- Mr. Clutch- and while he actually missed his PK in OT against Mililani, he did manage to connect on a 2<sup>nd</sup> half PK in that championship game, which helped propel `Iolani into overtime and eventually penalty kicks, where the Raiders prevailed. 

While `Iolani’s “One Team” mantra reverberates throughout its hallways and harkens back to Reverend Kenneth Bray over 90-years ago, it is often mentioned and apparent on playing fields, courts, pools, ocean, and wherever else `Iolani athletic teams compete. Sometimes undersized, but never under-motivated, the Raiders’ “One Team” spirit and dependence upon one another reverberates time after time when a team (and individuals) accomplish a great feat. And now, due in part to Abara’s grit and great feet, `Iolani is the 2023 state boys’ soccer champs.

Think about it…  

Pity the poor balloon. About to celebrate its bicentennial anniversary next year, the air has been let out of the balloon, so to speak. I know we’ve seen devastation (the Hindenburg disaster in 1937), but balloons have historically represented fun, joy, and happiness to so many. But those days are long gone… From being environmentally disastrous to posing threats to small children and wildlife, balloons have lost some of their pop of late and undoubtedly are suffering from deflated egos.

We now have Balloon-gate, with myriad mylars (or other, strange, unidentified flying objects) being espied over North America, Canada, and other countries. Whatever the (nefarious) purposes might be (it sure ain’t Google Maps traversing the troposphere), these are not balloons that simply escaped from some birthday party. This will undoubtedly be one more blemish on the reputation of the air-filled orbs that used to bring so much joy to so many, but now leave us filled with angst. Whoever the balloonatics are, they are not subtle or very clever, and this practice must be stopped. It’s a perfect time for pinheads to pop up and puncture these projectiles… 

On another note, a winding road near where I live finally got an overdue repaving. Great. Now, just a few months later, comes a road sign popping up alongside white, dotted lines drawn so that this very same road can be retrofitted for a (much-needed) water main replacement. So much for planning and communication. Can you dig it? Nah… 

And speaking of water, the lack of any substantive answers related to Red Hill and its myriad leaks, spills, and mishaps will soon place it in the vaunted realm of the Waikiki Natatorium, TMT project, and Ko`olau Stairway to Heaven. That is, local issues we discuss, but invariably do nothing about. The only things that seem to leak slowly and undetected from the Red Hill area are real solutions with fixed timelines and transparent accountability…

And speaking of moving slowly, two workers fell into a vat of chocolate at a Mars Wrigley plant in Pennsylvania last year. They both were rescued, but I wonder if it took a few hours for them to ask for help, and did they first ask for some raisins and nuts? The plant, which assures us that safety is a “top priority”, was fined for safety violations, and apparently the dish ran away with the spoon.

Think about it…

The words “Johnny Rotten” and “love song” seem so diametrically opposed, it is downright inconceivable to think of them meshing well. Rotten, a/k/a John Lydon, originally fronted the seminal, 70s punk band, the Sex Pistols, and he’s now written a poignant, modern love song with his band of the past 40+ years, Public Image Ltd (PiL).

What piqued my interest initially was that the song, called “Hawaii”, and is dedicated to Lydon’s wife of almost a half-century, Nora. You see, Nora is suffering from Alzheimer’s Disease, and Lydon believes this song is “…going to melt her, Alzheimer’s or not”. The tune represents a moment when, according to Lydon, “We spent a magnificent holiday in Hawaii after a tour once and it was just the greatest week of our lives. Now her memories are fading, I wanted to bring something like that back to her. I get broke up even thinking about it.”

What a beautiful sentiment from someone not often associated (publicly) with beauty, love, and warmth. After all, this is the guy who penned such moral shockers as “God Save The Queen”, and “Anarchy in the U.K.”, and whose band brought us the startling “Who Killed Bambi?” in the late 1970s (though he was very upset at the Bambi crime in that song). Lydon/Rotten once gave his bandmate a renown nickname that stuck- “Sid Vicious”. While many were indignant and repulsed by the Sex Pistols look (dynamic progenitors of piercings and spiked hair), sound, and antics, they helped birth the punk rock movement and questioned British social mores. 

Fast forward 45-years, and Lydon, who still makes statements as controversial and outlandish as ever, considers himself his wife’s full-time caretaker. “For me, the real person is still there. That person I love is still there every minute of every day and that is my life. It’s unfortunate that she forgets things, well, don’t we all?”  

We sure do. The song, “Hawaii”, has lines like “Remember me, I remember you”, “All journeys end, Some begin again”, and “Falling in our hearts, Here again, Hawaii”. Perhaps we’re all invariably accountable as the sum of what we say and do, but most of us have shades and textures. To hear Johnny Lydon gift a beautiful song about Hawai`i and express verbal sentiments about his ailing wife in 2023 reminds me to look for often unseen nuances in everyone and everything.

Think about it…

Hawai`i is the most expensive state to live in the United States. We all know that. Discussions are held regularly on how to address the issue, with lots of current legislative rightfully focused right now on how to help local people most in need.

So knowing that we have an on-going dilemma here based on numerous factors that are discussed incessantly, wouldn’t it make sense to do a better job educating students about economic realities, opportunities, potential pitfalls, and necessities?

According to the Council for Economic Education, 25 states in this country “… require students to take a course in economics to graduate”. Ohio and Nebraska became the most recent states to see the light, as bi-partisan efforts there helped to ensure that students moving on to college or into the real (working) world will now learn the how to help get one’s financial house in order at an early age.

Some of us might reminisce and say about a bevy of topics: “…if I only knew that when I was 18…”; being taught how to utilize one’s earnings, enhance one’s retirement nest egg, avoid overspending and capitalize on proven economic principles at an early age might really have been helpful.

Our overworked state Department of Education provides some direction, standards, and resources, and local banks, credit unions, and financial analysts have wonderful tools to help anyone understand the ABCs of personal economics, but mandating a high school course would go a long way toward relieving some of the angst and future money issues encountered by almost everyone, including ALICE (Asset Limited Income Constrained Employed) families and those in poverty locally.

It’ll take a concerted, public-private effort to help fund this education and the educators needed to pull it off, but we are long past merely considering such a concept. Again, we are the most expensive place to live in America, and that’s not likely to change soon. So being better prepared and economically aware such that you might make smarter fiscal choices early in your working years seems like a bipartisan concept everyone can get behind.

We teach kids about personal hygiene and other vital issues yet, perhaps ironically, the lack of any school-mandated, personal finance education could lead to future personal ailments- physical, fiscal, and mental. Perhaps 2023 will be the year we move forward, because we literally can’t afford to continue ignoring our economic illiteracy.

Think about it…

So how cool was that?! You know, the Eddie Aikau Big Wave Invitational on January 22? Tens of thousands on hand to watch a select group of men and women give it up in the spirit of Eddie. An awe-inspiring moment for surfers, event organizers, visitors, and locals alike. What a great sense of pride must have been felt by everyone involved. Watching incredible footage on a national network newscast that night reiterated to me what a special event (in a special place) “the Eddie” truly is.

My nephew, an intrepid North Shore lifeguard, was on the alternate list, but his opportunity never came. Maybe next time… So, he simply and quietly headed out into the “foaming, merciless sea” (to quote Rap Reiplinger) on a jet ski to help make sure that everyone was safe, including land-based newcomers who ignore basic physics of large waves- yes, they sometimes come ashore.

Local newspaper quotes about the event said it all: surfers who felt “honored” to be invited; a visitor from Europe who called it a “religious ritual”; even the event winner, a Waimea lifeguard, who claimed, “I’m tripping… I’m still on duty”. Only in Hawai`i, eh?

My father, a solid swimmer in his day, took swimming lessons on Maui from legendary instructor, Soichi Sakamoto, during World War II, and insightfully told me when we first visited Oahu’s North Shore a half century ago, “Never fear the ocean, but always respect it…” True that, Dad.

This event is so revered that big-time surfers drop everything and scurry to get here in time. A number of years back, when measurements of the rolling waves at Waimea Bay were assessed, organizers called off the event right before it was about to begin, much to the chagrin of thousands waiting, and sponsorship moneys went unspent. Integrity, respect, honor, forthrightness, even bravery in the face of a marketing opportunity. Stunning qualities in an era leaning towards immediate gratification, selfies, influencers, tell-all tales, trolls, fake news, and, well… I digress.

The Eddie was a no go that day and for many years it’s been a non-event, occurring only 10 times in four decades. It’s for invitees only; a special group. Eddie would go– a simple phrase and simple praise for a humble, local legend who did go many times to save many people on Oahu’s North Shore. And this year, the Eddie did go.

Think about it… 

Decisions, decisions… As the lettered, numeric license plate sequences run out next year, Hawai`i will change its license plate design… or will it? According to a recent Q & A in the Star-Advertiser’s “Kokua Line”, the previous plates (featuring King Kamehameha) lasted nine years (1981-1990), while our current rainbow-themed license plates will have been around for 32 years by the time they’re (possibly) retired in 2024.

If a new design is forthcoming, it will first require state, counties, law enforcement, and general public input. Seems like 2035 should be about when that’ll happen, based on how “major” decisions often come down locally. For now, here are some possibilities:

The humuhumunukunukuāpua’a is widely revered by school kids and others as our state fish. If we spelled it out, it could wrap around car/truck bumpers, giving us an exclusive license plate concept.

How about the (construction) crane? Many consider that our state bird, since it’s invasive tendencies can occasionally be seen far and wide (see: Kaka`ako).

Diamondhead- the volcanic cone is well-known, so maybe something more subtle and parochial for locals- like the Ko`olau Stairway to Heaven? Whereas cars represent going somewhere, this illegal staircase represents an issue that annually goes nowhere– an intriguing and cerebral juxtaposition perhaps?

A monk seal would be a cute, unique, and appropriate- after all, we know the rules about not getting too close, just like we’re supposed to be doing through our own safe driving habits.

The mongoose, unique to Hawai`i (in the U.S.A.) is a diurnal animal brought here 140-years ago to handle the growing (plantation) rat population… buts rats are nocturnal, partying all night, whilst mongooses sleep. Poor planning, indeed. A story with a moral told via license plates could be heart-warming, just like mongooses and rats… oh, never mind.

And what then of the nēnē? Before you say no no, consider that after a half-million years here, this gregarious goose should be given some serious consideration. Honk if you agree.

Maybe a surfboard design? After all, surfboards and cars both experience unwanted dings. A mai tai motif seems inappropriate, what with that whole drinking and driving thing. A ukulele? That’s a thought, knowing how much music means locally. Poke or shave ice conjure up positive thoughts unique to Hawai`i, but good luck on a readable design. So many options sure to be debated. Ultimately, this decision will be a mixed plate.

Think about it…

Every year we hear about the number of legal fireworks permits sold here. And every year we invariably hear anecdotal tales about loud (illegal) booms that go on for hours (or days). Asking neighbors to narc on one another simply isn’t working well enough. The idea of plainclothes cops helps, but the reality of more injuries annually apparently isn’t enough to keep scofflaws from blowing up their wares and possibly their loved ones. Current law says using under 25 pounds of illegal fireworks could lead to a fine of $200 to $2,500. How about adding a zero or two to these fines? Tough as it is for neighborhood advocates who pray for a more peaceful and legal transition from one year to the next, they must step up anonymously…

Wanna know a bad week? How about Southwest Airlines relying on an admittedly antiquated technology for its reservation system, using a point-to-point scheduling system (vs. the more readily accepted “hub and spoke” method competitors use), and having thousands of flight and tens of thousands of bags and customers inconvenienced…  and then having a Honolulu to Oakland flight turn around mid-flight on December 26 due to customer behavior issues! And you thought whiny relatives was a big deal at holiday time…

Visitor spending here through November, 2022, was up 9% vs. the same time period in (pre-COVID) 2019 while the visitor count was down 11%. Oh boy! That’s what many hoped for- get the spending up, but with fewer bodies in town. Which works, as long as pent up demand, hotel pricing, the actual experience, airfare convenience (see: Southwest), weather, economic factors, and other determinants all work in tandem. If this trend keeps up, you might not see those great kama`aina rates you’re always looking for when you want to travel interisland…

On Christmas Day, the Navy suggested it might take six to18 months to fix some of its malfunctioning cameras at Red Hill. Hmmm… couldn’t we ask four, techie 10^th graders to get a reliable surveillance system wired up with iPhone 6s… in about 45-minutes? Fuel spills sans surveillance, fire suppressant gushing from a pipeline, more talks, conferences, meetings, discussions, suggestions, timetables, reversals, excuses, denials, obfuscation, etc. I’m not sure who’s in charge this week- Moe, Larry, or Curly- but the people living in this area (and many outside) are once again left wondering what, why, and when…

Think About It… 

He came, he saw, he conquered, he scored four here, and now he’s left. Pelé was the greatest soccer (a/k/a futebol) player ever. You might quibble about Messi, Ronaldo, Maradona, Cruyff, or others, but no one did more for the sport and bringing the world together than did Brazil’s Edson Arantes do Nascimento, who passed away on December 29. Many 1960s kids wanted to like Pelé long before anyone wanted to be like Mike (Jordan)… or LeBron.

He played at a level that no one had ever seen before… literally. His contests with home squad Santos were available only via radio, thus his larger-than-life legend grew, as did his goal-tallying sheet. The only man to ever play on three World Cup winning teams (for native Brazil), Pelé was revered as he simply displayed his not-so-simple gifts with grace and purpose. Allegedly, a Nigerian civil war cease-fire was declared for 48-hours when Pelé came to play there in 1969. Back in 1961, Brazil’s military government brazenly declared him a “national treasure” so he wouldn’t ever leave Santos to play overseas in his prime.

And… he played here twice. In April, 1976, 21,705 fans witnessed the Aloha Soccer Festival, and Pelé didn’t disappoint- scoring four times as his New York Cosmos (of the nascent North American Soccer League) rolled over Japan’s Team Honda, 5-0. He returned to Aloha Stadium in mid-1977, during the lone, local season of Hawai`i’s NASL squad. 12,877 watched as his Cosmos squeaked by Team Hawai`i, 2-1. 

Pelé’s global humanitarian efforts against racism, for UNICEF and other noteworthy causes were acknowledged by everyone from Hawai`i Governor George Ariyoshi (who presented him with an award preceding that 1976 tournament here) to Nelson Mandela and the Queen of England. He won the International Peace Prize in 1978, and while not as outspoken as his contemporary sports icon, Muhammed Ali, Pelé was never shy when asked about the rampant racism he encountered as a youth and into his playing days as a global ambassador. Like Ali, he provided a new hope and brought pride to tens of millions worldwide, including disadvantaged, dark-skinned youth… all with a smile.

We’re lucky that Pelé showcased his joyous demeanor, aloha, and unmatched soccer skills here twice. Soccer (in his book, it’s called the “beautiful game”) is the earth’s most popular sport (not pickleball) and Pelé evolved it in so many ways. Obrigado!

Think about it…

What’s the true cost of doing nothing? What’s the real bottom line on delaying decisions, holding yet more meetings, adding discussions, committee analyses, legal hearings, red herrings, and community input?

Often, even when a decision is rendered, action is not taken as someone forgot to inform someone, egos conflict, or something came up that wasn’t considered, or…

Such is the case locally ad nauseum. But maybe 2023 with some re-direction at various government levels might alter that. Delays or redundant decisions followed by after-the-fact contradictions followed by more talk and little action is legendary locally. Maybe 2023 will be different.

What was the price of delaying habitable temperatures in far too many classrooms statewide for 40+ years? Conditions so inhumane that the SPCA would have been called in if you left a dog in a 95-degree leeward or windward classroom. Finally, we witnessed upgrades, retrofits, and who knows- maybe better teaching and learning will result from negating stultifying air.

What’s been the price of doing virtually nothing on the TMT project for years now? Legitimate questions, long-standing cultural issues unresolved, and real discussion is just now occurring. Maybe 2023 will be different.

What’s the cost of the can-kicking down the political road with the Waikiki Natatorium, a rotting relic built to honor men and women who fought for this territory and the United States during World War I. Is 40 years not enough time to remove rebar and re-make this dilapidated entity something invoking pride?

What’s the real price tag for delaying and then finally doing something about the windward Stairway To Heaven? Again, 40+ years might be a blip along the space-time continuum, yet seems a an absurdly long window in which to avoid responsible decision-making.

A new landfill, prison, and stadium district; beach erosion options, North Shore parking, an alternative driving route for leeward commuters, truly affordable housing- all discussed, planned, dissected, needed, and invariably stalled or ignored.

It’s now 2023; with a new year comes renewed optimism. People rarely “simply” lose 50-pounds… yet they can strive to lose five pounds at a time, showing progress, gaining confidence, making the difficult (if not impossible) more plausible via small wins. Kaizen. Let us cheer as ever-present, dangling particulars reach resolution and see action this year. Yes, sometimes doing nothing really is doing something- just not what we’d hoped for. Maybe 2023 will be different. Please…

Think About it…