I’m really blessed. My gratitude knows no bounds. Most people dream of coming to Hawaii even once and when they do, it costs them months of toil in a job they most likely don’t want to be doing. Thousands of dollars for hotel, activities, rental cars, food. A family of four is lucky if they can get away with $10,000 for a one week trip with the bells and whistles.
I”m so grateful my daughter is here. While radicalized white terrorist teenagers are shooting up mosques in the US Mainland and the US is constantly poking the world with a hot sharpened stick and wars and tragedies are unfolding all over, Hawaii abides. Like the Dude. The Dude Abides. So does Hawaii.
The beauty of this place is what the world dreams of, but the crystal clear waters, the magnificent sunsets, the happy people finally getting the chance to experience a bit of paradise. I love Hawaii. I always have ever since I was a kid and would see those C&H Pure Cane Sugar ads while watching already very old reruns of I Love Lucy, Popeye, Bugs Bunny, Felix the Cat, and other shows that were old even before I was born.
And yet – these days, I’m very happy to leave. Not happy to part from my child, not that at all. Oahu though, it’s not what it once was to me. I was here for years on end with no desire to leave, but now two weeks feels like an eternity. The traffic, the parking, the cost of food (not just restaurants but all food), the cost of gas, the cost of the rental car, the weird vibe of extreme homelessness, the need to be constantly alert to avoid an auto break-in or having shit stolen from the beach, the increasing aggression of young local guys to guys that look like me – middle-aged white dudes – or – fucking haoles. No matter that I called this place home longer than some of those guys have been alive. Doesn’t matter. The skin. The perceived economic privilege. I’m not wearing a MAGA hat and never would, but I look just like the guys that do. It doesn’t help that I look tough enough to take care of myself but not so badass that they might get hurt (but trust me, they would). By myself, I get haole checked all the time. In. general the guys doing it are cowards, in a group, picking a guy who isn’t too big and who is by himself. I used to wander this island like a local, go wherever, whatever, whatevah… Not anymore. The last three times I’ve been here I had my haole checked – aggressively.
The fruit here used to be one of the delights for me. Now, I see papayas at $6.99 each. A smoothie costs more than a set meal in a restaurant used to. And the crazy part is that I sampled a few of the foods I used to enjoy here – poke bowls, malasadas, coco puffs, shave ice and more. Chinese, Thai, Sushi, Vietnamese, Mexican – pizza from Whole Foods – not just Hawaiian foods, all kinds. It was expensive – that was one problem. The bigger problem was that it simply didn’t taste good. The eggs here in America have this bizarre unhealthy color to them. There is so much sugar in everything. Everything is ultra-processed – even the foods that shouldn’t be or don’t need to be.
I had no desire to drink here. Alcohol has lost its appeal. Coffee is only worthwhile with friends – paying for the cafe instead of the brew. Most of the friends I enjoyed seeing have either left the islands or are so busy trying to make ends meet that they don’t have time to see an old friend. Some of them have become – different than I remember. Maybe that’s just me. I don’t know.
It took me days to get in the ocean. I pulled out my old foam surfboard and used a few times. I’m not a surfer though, it’s not that satisfying, though I want it to be. Swimming was okay. The water feels good. My favorite hidden beach has been ruined. My favorite low key body surfing beach has been discovered. My favorite swimming beach has been shut down to protect seals. I don’t like getting in the water in a lot of other places. Rocks, coral, heavy currents, steep shore breaks. Not my thing because I’m not a surfer.
I took a few hikes. The trails were generally crowded but I found a few moments of bliss. I heard and saw funny things. People exhausted and resting on a hike before it had even started the uphill climb. A sadly obese father asking his sadly obese young daughter, “Do you need a break? Want to stop and drink some coke?” More power to him for getting her (and him) on the trail, but are people in America so retarded (not sorry for the use here – not referencing developmentally disabled people) that they think coke is a substitute for water?
I tried to figure out this time “Who is Hawaii for?” and I guess the answer is that it is perfect at this point for Americans who want an ‘exotic’ trip without leaving America. It’s not a party place but maybe the surfing thing is a big draw for those who don’t worry about money and how insane expensive it is here. I don’t know. I just know that it’s not for me.
I’ll be back, but I won’t be dreaming of returning like I did in the twenty tens. And if I return to the USA to live someday, I feel pretty sure it won’t be to live on Oahu and probably won’t be in Hawaii. I’m at the airport four hours early – that should tell you all you need to know.