hawaii

I recently watched an intriguing, five-part series, “The American Experiment”, which provides historical perspectives on our nation’s birth and how close that evolving plan came to falling apart 250 years ago. Noted historians, politicians, and pundits pontificated on what happened then, and why. And also- what that means today.

I also happened upon a TV concert special, “Paul Simon: The Quiet Celebration Concert”. Simon, one of America’s greatest living singer-songwriters, lost 96% hearing in his left ear, exacerbated by a botched surgical procedure targeted to correct his initial, sudden hearing loss. Fellow band members created the necessary acoustics on stage and thus he began performing again, albeit quietly.

My father lost over 85% of his hearing due to an enemy concussion shell while fighting on an Italian hillside during World War II and dealt with it for 60-years. I have empathy for Simon’s plight, plus his resolve and pluckiness to not allow this ailment to define him at age 84. Much like my father.

In his special, Simon sang his Simon & Garfunkel 1969 song, “The Boxer”, which lyrically reflects his personal state of mind as he withstood critical barbs and wicked music critiques. He sang “…And wishing I was gone, going home”. But he never quit playing. Not back then, not now. He persevered.

Maybe that’s what we can take from our country’s 250^th birthday. This USA experiment goes on, flawed in many respects, still morphing, agonizing, discovering, and yet still the benchmark of freedom and possibility for so many. Witness the just-completed World Cup Soccer event; a bouillabaisse of disparate humans had a literal ball here. 

“The Boxer” also suggests: “Still a man hears what he wants to hear/ And disregards the rest”.  How true is that 1969 thought from “The Boxer” in 2026? Nowadays, many nestle in friendly media echo chambers and comfort zones with their tribes “…and disregard the rest”. 

I learned in “The American Experiment” just how humble and strong George Washington was. He didn’t really crave the presidency, but was emphatically reminded that he was the lone man who could bring this nascent nation together- long before asocial media, egotists, trolls, and wannabes try to separate this nation, whose very name begins with that vital concept- United. 

We’ve been through a lot in 250+ years. Our laws, innate decency and common vision have bonded us amid excessive disruptions. Here’s to the next 250 years.

Think about it…     

Côte d’Ivoire … I’m hooked. World Cup Fever is real and the Elephants of Ivory Coast hooked me right from the start. I love most everything about the World Cup… except the exaggerated injuries/stalling (gamesmanship?) and the inane reality that only the center official knows exactly when the game will end.

I watched the Ivory Coast team warm up in its electrifying orange and green aloha-ish shirts and immediately bought one online (it includes the elephant logo). I watched the joy and delight the team and its fans displayed throughout their World Cup experience. Similar to many other teams and crazed fans, of course, but simply pleasant, not fanatical. 

The fans traipsed from Philadelphia to Toronto and Dallas, happily sharing their esprit de corps and West African pride wherever they went. The team lost in the round of 32 to Norway, but this was Côte d’Ivoire’s first squad to get through the group stage. Having forwards like Yan Diomandeand Nicolas Pépé surely helped (those two each have transfer market valuations of about $150 million!). Finding a new team to root for in the midst of the usual, favored suspects battling for the World Cup crown just adds to the fun while enjoying this quadrennial event, an event that will be watched during its duration by a staggering 5.8 billion people worldwide.

Hawai`i sports fans loves underdogs; we often feel that our squads (in many sports) are perennial underdogs against acknowledged powerhouses. While underrepresented in the stands by their small Coterie of Cote-ees (‘tis a long, costly trip from Abidjan and Yamoussoukro in Cote d’Ivoire to North America), indomitable, happy faces from West Africa beamed throughout Les Éléphants’ presence at this wondrous spectacle. How can you not love a charismatic team and fan base that often includes a percussion band mimicking elephant noises in the stands?!

You wanna talk about a melting pot? Cote d’Ivoire has 32-million people incorporating 60 ethnic groups and over 70 indigenous languages. Anecdotally, only soccer brings everyone together. This team and its fans are famous for morphing bad fortune (i.e.-losing) into joking and humble amusement, a far cry from some over-exuberant soccer souls who follow “the beautiful game” as melodrama, a life and death struggle. 

I discovered Ivory Coast’s intriguing, homegrown zouglou music along the way… always fun to learn something new! Cote d’Ivoire spiced up the worldwide bouillabaisse that is this fútbol phenomenon.

Think about it…

On December 1, 1978, I attended my first Prep Bowl high school football championship game at Aloha Stadium. My sister’s boyfriend, a proud Kamehameha graduate, accompanied me, as the Warriors were looking to win the then-annual ILH/OIA battle of football giants for the fourth consecutive year.

32,812 showed up- the largest Prep Bowl crowd of all-time- and witnessed a bruising, well-played, defensive struggle won by the Waianae High School Seariders, 14-6. I was caught up with the crowd in the quality of play, but what impressed me most was the consistent character displayed throughout that championship game by the Waianae squad. Like its coastline, Waianae’s team was rugged.

Searider tacklers were nailing guys (legally)… and then helping them back up after the whistle. Nowadays, if you reach out to a tackled opponent you will undoubtedly be scorned by online trolls and possibly teammates, too. Both Waianae and Kamehameha displayed class- no overt celebrating, no over-the-top displays of emotion, no big bodying, and no grandstanding. Nowadays, if a defensive back gets burned five times and then (finally) makes a tackle, he might hovers/dance over the downed receiver. Good grief. 

Waianae was coached from 1965-1984 by Larry Ginoza, a legend who passed away last month. I greatly admired his work- his demeanor and mentoring skills, his quiet consistency and steely resolve that shined through his players’ actions and attitude. Ginoza made a big difference to and through his players for decades. He was the coach, but he was also much more.

Former Waianae quarterback, Michael Beazley, nicely summed up Ginoza-ball in Steven Tsai’s newspaper article about Ginoza’s passing when he said, “If you score a touchdown, you give the ball to the referee. If the ref’s not around, you put the ball on the ground. You can celebrate with your teammates on the sideline and you leave the other team alone. You don’t piss them off”. Period. Amen.

Legendary Green Bay Packers’ coach, Vince Lombardi, allegedly said, “…act like you’ve been there before” regarding touchdown non-celebrations. Mr. Waianae took that to heart while teaching his kids. Ginoza-isms included: you don’t practice, you don’t play. You don’t do your classwork, you don’t play. He taught humility, character, grit, discipline, awareness, while proving that hard work pays off. It certainly did at Waianae High under Coach Ginoza. That tight-knit community witnessed football greatness where the big “W” on their helmets stood for “Winners”.

Think about it…

I was driving to breakfast in Waikiki recently. As I veered from King Street onto Kapiolani just before Kaimuki High School, I noticed a young woman on a scooter who’d pulled over to the side by a gas station. She had what appeared to be a fast food bag and she handed it to a (possibly) houseless person who had a mountain of possessions piled high in a shopping cart.

She was smiling; he was looking inquisitively at the apparent offering. The nature of traffic forced me to continue on my way, but I couldn’t help, for just a moment, to feel a sense of hope at this circumstance I’d happened upon. Hope. I’d witnessed an apparent reminder that there are quality people out there willing to lend a hand, or a meal, as the case may be. Just because.

Obviously, I have no way of knowing if this was a chance encounter, a regular drop off, a delivery (I doubt it), or simply a random act of kindness. It reminded me of 35 years ago when I took two of my young children down to A’ala Park around Christmas time to drop off breakfast sandwiches to those gathered/living in the encampment that used to be there. As little tykes, the last thing my kids wanted to do was trudge over the Pali Highway to do whatever dad had planned. I mean, Santa was coming!

Upon seeing the smiles on the faces of some of those residents when we handed out food and said, “Merry Christmas”, my kids grew unusually quiet. We finished our  deliveries and headed back to the car, when my seven-year son said, “Dad, can we do this every year?” Small story, but hopefully it meant something that has lasted with both of those kids over the years.

As I drove off to my breakfast with old friends in our bi-monthly quest to resolve the world’s problems over eggs and examples, I found myself smiling over what I has seen by chance- a sincere, honorable attempt to provide more than just a meal, more than just a smile. Perhaps that chance encounter I glimpsed at provided someone with hope.

If things drag you down, find hope; create hope; embrace hope. The journal Emotion suggests that “feeling hopeful contributes to the sense that life is meaningful, controlling for other positive feelings.” Not a bad start.

Think about it…