THE GREATEST FOOT MASSAGE.

WARNING...THIS IS A LONG ONE...BUT IF YOU KNOW OR HAVE KNOWN ANYONE WHO SERVED IN THE MILITARY........TAKE SOME TIME TO READ IT!!!

I went to the last day of the New Mexico State Fair yesterday. Hadn't been there in years. Got burned out by it when the kids were little as most of my annual experiences were centered around the midway rides and the food booths and stuffed animals and plastic baggies of goldfish (two of whom were named "fish" and "agbyani"--as in Bennie, the former NY Met's outfielder.. don't ask, I am afterall a Yankee fan). When the kids grew too old for parental escorts, I did everything I could to avoid the fair, with it's exhorbitant prices and crushing crowds.

But yesterday was one of those 100 or so perfect days we live for in the Land of 505. Clear blue skies, temperatures in the mid to high 70's, no breeze...the kind of autumn day where you can wear either shorts or jeans and be comfortable. If the blazing sun is too hot, you need only move into the shade, if it gets too chilly in the shade, you need only move into the sun.
The kind of day that makes the Chamber of Commerce and the State Tourism Dept. gush with pride.

So me and the Mrs. decided to overlook our fears and traumas of past State Fairs, and took a chance on this last day of the 2009 Fair. We looked forward to the fact that for the first time, we could do the things we never did at previous Fairs.

We could hang out in the beer gardens, sit and listen to all of the varieties of live music on display, saunter at our own pace through the exhibition halls, and bask in the unique to America experience that is the New Mexico State Fair, with it's heavy emphasis on the dominant cultures of this state.
The New Mexico State Fair is first and foremost a showcase of the Native American and Hispanic heritage of which this part of the USA strongly clings to. (Despite the crushing onslaught of all things Angloneuropean as manifested by the midway carnival and way too numerous gimmicky Roncolike product booths).

After an hour or so spent in one of the beer gardens, (conveniently located next to the Dock Dog exhibition where we watched happy dogs get big air and soak nearby spectators chasing duck decoys into a swimming pool....who can't love happy dogs getting wet and stinky?), we resumed our trek through the grounds.

That's when I had the greatest experience of any State Fair that I have ever been to.
While awaiting the Mrs to return from the lady's room, I indulged myself (one of my favorite things to do) by depositing 25 cents in one of those bulky looking foot massage machines. The ones where you sit in a chair with your feet on what looks like the converted foot pedals from a barber's chair and receive 3 minutes or so of a vibrating podiatric orgasm. While simultaneously engaging in one of my other favorite pasttimes.....people watching... along the main street of this State Fair venue

Toward the end of my session I noticed a large family walking toward me on the busy main street, and at the center of this clan are an elderly (and very small) Grandma and Grandpa.
Grandpa is making eye contact with me.
I sense that he is looking for a little encouragement from me to try the gizmo I am occupying as he is wearing what can best be surmised as a pair of vintage Stride-Rites from the 60's. They're in pretty good shape, but are not the world's greatest walking shoes.

More importantly to me though, he is wearing a black baseball cap emblazoned with a white logo that reads "WWII VETERAN", and the rest of his cap is festooned with Marine Corps colors and combat ribbons, as well as dates of reunions he has attended. Being a huge fan of all things WWII, I shout out to him, "Hey soldier, C'mon over and give those dogs of your's a break!"

So this tiny little man (couldn't have been more than 100 pounds) and his wife breakaway from their family to join me at the bank (3) of foot masage units. I rise up and greet this stranger by shaking his hand and thanking him for his service to our country. He pauses while his even smaller wife plops into a chair and digs for quarters in a purse that was half her size, and he smiles at me and thanks me for noticing the baseball cap.

His speech had a thick Hispanic accent, made doubly difficult to understand by this gringo because I could only discern two lower teeth in his palate. Mid to late 80's in age, he was nevertheless in great physical and mental shape, very spry and agile for a man his age and especially for someone who was involved in such misery in his life.

Most importantly, he was all too eager to share some of his war experiences with me. And as someone who's dad served with the Marines in the Pacific, I was all too eager to listen and to question him.

Some snippets....
He and 18 of his High School buddies from "Martineztown" (a small mostly-99%- Hispanic district in downtown Albuquerque) enlisted in the Marine Corps in 1942.
At the time of enlistment my new friend was only 94 pounds which was far below the 110 pound minimum, so the recruiting sergeant had to place his own foot on the scale and put enough pressure on the scale to bring him up to the minimum 110 pounds.
All through boot camp his buddies had to help him through the more physical aspects of it, cuz he was just too small, nor was he strong enough to perform them.
With two weeks to go before graduation from boot, he decided that he had enough of the abuse, was in tears and went to the Chaplain to figure a way out of the Corps. The Chaplain and his 18 buddies talked him out of quitting, a decision which he says now was the greatest and worst thing that has ever happened in his life.
The three combat ribbons on his baseball cap represent the three campaigns he served in during the war with the 1st Marine Division.....Guam, Iwo Jima and Okinawa.
(BTW, while this conversation was going on, he remained standing, never took advantage of the foot massage, and his wife was throwing quarters into the chair like it was a slot machine at Sandia Casino).
He was wounded two times during battle. There were times when he saved his buddies lives and times when they saved his.
He was training for the invasion of Japan when the atomic bombs (made in New Mexico, tested in Japan) were dropped, and is absolutely convinced that he would not have survived an invasion. (the same sentiment voiced by every other veteran of the Pacific that I have ever spoken with).

The man was an encyclopedia of stuff and I could have chatted with him all day, all weekend, all month. He was equally grateful to have an audience.
But it was time for us to move on and enjoy the rest of the fair, as his family came looking for him and my Mrs. was ready to head for the Native American Village.
So I left this stranger with a long embracing hug, both of us happy with this chance encounter and brief friendship....I thanked him again.
He whispered in my ear his own appreciation for my appreciation and interest.

As we parted ways (his wife was STILL dropping quarters) Mrs 505 said to me
"I'm sure you are crying".....
I said "Yeah.....do you wanna know why?"
"Sure", she said.

"I asked him how many of his 18 buddies returned home"

And he told me "Four, the other 14 were still serving..... in Guam, Iwo and Okinawa".

I think I'll go back to the Fair next year.....and walk around a lot.
And next year I'll make a point to visit the exhibit showcasing surviving members of the Navajo Codetalkers from WWII.
I'm sure they have much to say as well, to anyone willing to listen.

NEWSDAY'S KEN DAVIDOFF NEEDS TO EASE UP

Ken Davidoff is the leading Baseball Columnist for Newsday. Ken Davidoff is one of the finest baseball writers in America. I enjoy reading Ken Davidoff's articles, I have been a frequent commenter and contributor to his blog for 2 years. (not so much lately...well, not at all, thanks to the new and improved Newsday website).

I really like Ken Davidoff. Hell, we're facebook friends (but I may get cut after this rant), even though I do not share his love of all things statistics, nor do I share his barely perceptible love of the Mets (nothing wrong with that), or his more than perceptible distaste for Derek Jeter.

For the past few days, Ken has been depositing little snippets on his blog about the unimportance of this weekend's Yankees/Red Sox series, trying to convince his readers to snooze through the games, and to look ahead to the playoffs in a few weeks.
Culminating in this main page article: "This Visit By Red Sox Only A Dress Rehearsal"
Found here.....http://www.newsday.com/columnists/ken-davidoff/this-visit-by-red-sox-only-a-dress-rehearsal-1.1472015

Some excerpts from Ken's column include the following....
"If you're a serious baseball fan... you should root for one important result this weekend: No serious injuries!"
and..
"..the Red Sox-Yankees series starting Friday night at Yankee Stadium is nice, but it's nothing"
and
"You don't want to see anyone exert himself too much, however."

Ken goes on in the body of his work to emphasize the importance to baseball of a Yankees/Red Sox ALCS next month.
How "It all would be, most literally, Must-See TV".

Ken....
STOP!!!!! NOW!!!!
please?

You ask in your opening line for all "serious baseball fans" to not take these 3 games seriously.

Well, I'm a serious baseball fan. And someone who spent a lot of years playing the game at subterranean levels.
And I take every game very seriously. Especially games, ANY GAMES, against my biggest rival.
I don't give a shit about potential TV ratings and must see TV a month from now.
I don't want to see the Yankees or the fans "easing up" against the Red Sox because of the exhortations of misplaced priorities by disinterested scribes.
I fear injuries as much as you do, but I also know that more injuries occur when players "ease up".
And anyone who has played the game, any sport, knows that bad habits develop when you start "easing up".
It is a disservice to the fans in attendance who pay too much money to see these games to not expect a maximum effort by the participants to "TRY TO WIN THE DAMN GAME".

C'mon Ken....who are you trying to kid here?
It's the BOSTON RED SOX, fer chrissakes.....Every game should be approached by the Yankees with maximum intensity, and maximum desire to WIN.

And no true fan should have any less an attititude.

So please Ken, ease up with you easygoing armchair attitude and approach to these games.
It has no place in sports , and for that attitude to exude out of a pressbox is self defeating to your knowledge and appreciation of the sporting spectacle in general and baseball in particular.
Again.....WIN THE DAMN GAME.

Crush the Red Sox. Destroy them.....Turn them into rubble.

And that's just my opinion......from two time zones away.

"I'VE SEEN IT ALL IN A SMALL TOWN"

"Well I wasn't born in a small town,

But I can breathe in a small town."

505 and family spent the weekend in a small town in Northern Minnesota. It's not the first time I've ever been to that small town. In 26 years of marriage to a girl from that small town, I've performed many requisite family duties and taken many trips to that polka ridden ghetto of you betcha's, dontcha knows, and yah shure's; and obsessively marvelled at the inordinate amount of four door burgundy colored vehicles that litter their byways.

And..I've got a fair amount of "Home of the Shittiest Weather in the World" T-shirts from that small town. A T-shirt that comes accessorized with a protective gortex rain flap, built-in self-dispensing mosquito repellant, and wool insulation.

But every time I return to that small town, my hope for America is reinvigorated by little things that just don't happen in predominantly Big City America. Little things that help me forget about the exhausting 24/7 pounding of Beck vs. Olberman, Obama vs. me, Walmart vs. anyone with a cash register, and the unpretentious cultural kamikaze nuclear bomb that is the latest billion dollar, go-go dancer infested thunderdome, constructed to satisfy the egos and conspicuously wasteful demeanors of our Jerry Jones' infested Metropolitan America population.

TOP 10 STUFF THAT YOU'LL ONLY FIND IN SMALL TOWN AMERICA.

10/Rather than a cityscape pockmarked by yard signs reading "Make $300.00/hr doing nothing at home", small town yards are pocketed with hand painted signs that read "$3.00 Pancake Breakfast Saturday Morning, 8AM, St. John's Lutheran Church". I love pancakes (with blueberries).

9/Where else will you find a "Farmer's Day Parade" re-broadcast on the local community service TV channel? Featuring two camera angles (one camera..on a swivel), very limited commentary, an off-key HS Marching Band that still sounded great, and enough candy thrown off the makeshift floats (borrowed pickups with appropriate signage and America Flags duct taped onto the hood) to hold the kids over until Halloween? All sponsored by the 3 or 4 dentists in town?. And I would be remiss if I omitted a shoutout to the "8 Synchronized Shriners on Choppers" kicking off the parade with an obnoxiously long demonstration of their motorcycle skills that may well spread fear among the Ohio State Marching Band with their choreography.

8/A Dairy Queen not only open at 945PM on a Sunday night, but staffed by EIGHT cheerful, neatly uniformed, hard working High School age kids servicing what was a parking lot and storefront devoid of any customers (except for me and 505 jr. in need of Dilly Bars). Despite having zero customers at that time of night, every employee in that store was busy with other duties, mopping the floors, bleaching the tabletops, washing windows, and prepping for the next day's business. Without an adult supervisor to be found. The polar opposite of the CUSTOMER DISSERVICE PHILOSOPHY showcased by Alamo Rent a Car, who had ONE employee checking in 20-25 customers on a traditionally busy Friday afternoon in the Minneapolis airport.

7/A 6AM visit to the local Cub Foods allowed me to witness a Pepsi delivery guy helping an older and more frail Coke delivery guy stack his shelves. I wiped the residual morning after alcohol glaze from my eyes twice to verify what I was viewing....and bought a 6 pack of Pepsi instead of my normal and preferred Coca-Cola purchase. (I pray no one from Coke reads this, or else the Coke guy will most likely lose his job).

6/Upon leaving the Cub Foods I was able to drive over to my brother-in-law's house, walk into an open garage (all night) and let myself into the house through the kitchen door without waking any still sleeping kids and adults. If I left the garage door open in 505, everything including the garage door opener would be gone before the last moth dive bombed into the "security" floodlight.

5/A wedding that featured a Catholic priest with a legitimate and enjoyable sense of humor, who was only too happy to perform what I characterized as a "drive thru ceremony" (about 15 minutes), and couldn't wait to get to the reception that followed. Based on this brief encounter, I surmised that he may well be one of the few Catholic priests remaining in America who has a legitimate shot at going to heaven.

4/A reception at the local Fraternal Order of Eagles Club (quelle shock), one of the few (3?) banquet halls in this town large enough to accomodate 100+ people, but unique in that the "wait staff" are volunteers/friends of the family who take turns monitoring the buffet line and cake cutting chores. And hung around to help during the clean up as well. How many of YOUR FRIENDS would volunteer for this kind of wedding day duty in big city America?

3/My first round of cocktails(5 drinks- 2 Captain Cokes, a Vodka Cloudy, 2 Michelob Ultra's) for the family at the Eagle's Club reception ran me the paltry sum of $10.25, plus $2.00 tip for the free pouring, heavy handed, hot looking bartender. (27 years old and already a mother four times...yet she could easily grace the cover of many a men's magazine). The same order placed at any big city reception hall would have seen me kissing a Ben Franklin buh-bye. And the hot looking bartender would have had a lawyer on hand to immediately file alcohol induced sexual harassment lawsuits.

2/A groom's family that happily (and too cheerfully?) cemented the brand spanking new family bonds initiated via this conjugation of our parent's/grandparents/the olden folks when they stepped up for Miss 505 after some out of town pipeline workers took some testerone and alcohol infected "liberties" (a little verbal sparring turned kinda off color) with her in the public bar adjoining the Eagle's Reception Hall. I can count on the fingers of a centipede's hands how many times opposing families left wedding receptions fighting with each other in big city affairs.

1/One of the 3 Andy Griffiths on duty that night in this small town, responded to the "near riot" (nothing violent occurred, just a lot of threats, kinda like a soccer brawl) in the bar and provided my daughter and her fiance with a ride in the back of his police vehicle to their hotel...... a whole 2 blocks away. Sorry, but I guess I never saw the episode when Adam 12's Marty Milner or Kent McChord drove patrons home from a bar in Los Angeles.

"Taught the fear of "geezus" in a small town...

...Had myself a ball in a small town."

Thanks to the Frances Gumm Museum in Grand Rapids MN., for the picture of her still standing modest little adorable house. No one looked better in red shoes better than she. But for the record, I still have no use for Toto....the dog or the band.

MAMA, DON'T LET YOUR BABIES GROW UP TO BE...........

".....like you.
Don't let ' em sip cocktails in back rows of church.
Make 'em be sober and proper and such."

I was surfing through Facebook this evening and found this picture of my daughter from last weekend, performing her duties as a bridesmaid for her future sister-in-law.

Imagine my shock and awe.

The product of my loins sipping a cocktail in the rear pews of a church.
What had her mother and I created?

Quelle Shock!!

But upon very little review, and after I finished chuckling, I flashed back to a cold December in Anchorage Alaska in 1983, and said to myself:

"Self, it's true what everyone says about 'The Great Circle of Life' and how acorns never fall far from a tree".

Cuz here I was looking at a 4 day old picture that could just as easily have been taken 26 years ago, two time zones away, in a log cabin church along the Park Strip in Anchorage. (that's the actual church in the right hand snapshot).

On December 17, 1983, Mrs. 505 and yours truly exchanged marriage vows in the Unitarian Church in front of the Reverend Richard Gay. This was the first of what was to be two wedding ceremonies for the blissful couple. We were also scheduled to be married in a full blown Catholic ceremony in Minnesota in February of 1984 for the benefit of our very Catholic familes.

(Who were none too pleased about this "sham" in Alaska, nor was the Catholic Priest who performed the Minnesota ceremony).

The ceremony in Alaska was for the benefit of all of our friends and "family" in Alaska, who would not be able to attend the festivities in Minnesota. (and since I worked for an airline and "flew for free", why should I PAY to fly my bride to Minnesota when she could fly free if she was already married to me?....... No one ever accused 505 of not being pragmatic.....or cheap).

Well, what happened in the log cabin "church" that Friday evening in Anchorage was one of those unique life experiences that simultaneously make lasting memories and damn you to hell for eternity.

We had planned a low budget affair (somewhat uncommon for our relationship, we have always tended to be somewhat extravagant when hosting celebrations), with a simple ceremony and a simpler reception. The deluxe extra large suite at the Captain Cook Hotel (the only 5 star hotel in Alaska, and 2 of those stars were purchased) would host our 40-50 guests after the ceremony. Since it was a Friday, and both of us worked, neither of of us could check into or prepare the room until after the ceremony which was scheduled for 7PM. As I was in charge of adult beverages for the reception, I picked up an appropriate amount of beer and champagne and loaded it all into the back of my tiny '81 Toyota Tercel hatchback (great little car...often transported 4 large dogs at a time...multiple cases of beer and champage were no problem for that little workhorse).

Being the punctual person that I was, I arrived at the church 15 minutes before our nuptials with a carload of beverages.

At which point I realized that I faced a dilemma.

It was December in Alaska and the temperature was hovering around a balmy 10 below zero.

Like every other American, I liked my beer cold. But not frozen.

Since the ceremony was scheduled to last about 20 minutes, and I still had 15 minutes until the first pitch, I knew from experience that I would probably return to my car to see frozen beer and cracked bottles.

So....I asked the Reverend Gay if I could store the beverages in the foyer of church, just inside the doorway.

"Not a problem" said the liberal minded Unitarian Minister. (Unitarians are about as easy going zealots as you will ever find among the opium sedated world of the religious masses).

I silently congratulated myself for this clear demonstration of thoughtful foresight and stacked the cases inside the church doorway.

It was then that the "Law of Unintended Consequences" kicked into high gear.

Our guests began arriving at the Church, and being shameless and stereotypical "Alaskans" saw the beverages as they entered the cabin and figured that they were props in whatever bizarre ceremony Mrs. 505 and I had cooked up for the exchange of the marriage vows.

And helped themselves to their victual of choice.

And filed into the pews of the church, with bottles and plastic glasses in hand.

To their credit, most of them kept, or tried to keep, the evil vices tucked down below eyesight for most of the ceremony, but there are at least a half dozen photos of friends who were clearly enjoying this Alaskan Wedding at Cana. (Even though I still have an auricular imprint in my mind of the classic "whissht" sound a beer bottle makes when opened, during the most "solemn" moment of the service.....oh my).

To the credit of Reverend Gay, he viewed this little sacrilege with great humor and a non condescending eye.

And it was also probably a good thing that at this point in 1983, Sarah Palin was still only in Year 2 of her 5 colleges in 7 years collegiate matriculation program. Or else our entire congregation for that Friday evening might have been criminalized and forced to parade down Spenard Road stripped of our down outerware and woolie undergarments, left with nothing on, save for our coyote or wolf fur bearing caps and mukluks.

I, on the other hand, griped to myself about now having to stop at a liquor store on the way to the hotel and shell out more money to replenish the beverage supply for the reception.

The lesson in all of this as I look at my daughter imbibing inside a Church?

Be very careful America about Stem Cell Research.

The memories of the mind can be very powerful imprinters upon the genetic makeup of our progeny.

"Mama, don't let your babies grow up to be like you...

They'll learn that drinkin' is thinkin' and one for the road.

Are two of the gifts of life's long moral code."

COMMENTS OF THE WEEK

Last week was a slow blogging week for yours truly. For no good reason.

Except that, as someone who prides himself as an occasional laser tongued twit, I found myself overwhelmed by witty, and well-timed comments that would have made anything I wrote or said boring and pedestrian in comparison. (Moreso than usual!!)

So, I'm dedicating this entry to a list of all of the outstanding quotes that were generated last week from around the country. And they are listed in no particular order, cuz just like Groucho's clever pose pictured above, they are all number one in my book.

"You Lie"......South Carolina Congressman Joe Fisher, who is likely to have his next 10 campaigns financed, thanks to the sale of bumper stickers boasting that well timed catcall. A catcall that will wind up on the all-time list with the person who screamed out "Whipping Post" during the Allman Brother's Band Fillmore Concerts.

“If I could, I would take this f… ball and shove it down your f… throat.” ......Luv it Sistah Serena. Well worth the 10K purse snatching the Tennis Authorities leveed upon you. You make bad losers like me feel proud that NO ONE should walk away quietly from a bad call by an official. Especially a cheap call that cost you a shot at winning the a Grand Slam event. If you are gonna get beat by an official....GET YOUR DAMN MONEY"S WORTH. BRAVO Serena.

"No. The NY Islanders visited the White House"..... From FB friend, fellow Islander and Yankee fan Brooks Simpson. Who corrected the mighty "Puck Daddy" Hockey Sports Section in Yahoo when they wrote an article claiming that the Pittsburgh Penguins were the 1st Stanley Cup winning team to visit the White House. Proving, ONCE AGAIN, that the NY Islander's Dynasty of the early 80's continues to be the most ignored and overlooked dynasty of all time.

"All she does is sit there and blink like Yul Brynner in a rainstorm at Westworld"....Dennis Miller talking about Nancy Pelosi during Obama's Health Care Speech. What can I add to that pearl? As I sat there watching her glazed catatonic expression, I was getting a vision of a cross between a tensile haired Elsa Lanchester from "Bride of Frankenstein" and an extra who's cameo appearance wound up on the cutting room floor from the "Stepford Wives".

"The organization didn’t play with the flu in Utah”...A snippet from Michael Jordan's less than magnamious NBA Hall of Fame Speech, where, in this case, it was Michael's way of thanking Chicago Bull's owner Jerry Krauss for surroundng MJ with quality talent and coaching.

“Take some individual responsibility to stay healthy during the flu season.”
Health and Human Services Secretary Kathleen Sebelius on flu vaccinations. All I can say is SHOCKING to hear such pearls of wisdom emanating from within the Beltway. The question is, however, how long will someone uttering the words "individual responsibility" and "health" in the same sentence be allowed to stay in the Obama circle?

"That is the voice of God because its the voice of truth and experience."..... MSNBC's Chris Matthews, reacting to a Bill Clinton speech. And here I thought there was only The One True God at MSNBC.

"Georgia will kill South Carolina, by a field goal"......ESPN's legendary College Football Prognosticator Lee Corso....To which South Carolina Congressman Joe Fisher and every betting citizen of South Carolina filled Corso's e-mail box with a simple "You LIED" after Georgia won by 4 points.

WINSTON CHURCHILL SAID IT BEST 69 YEARS AGO

"THIS WAS THEIR FINEST HOUR"

NEVER FORGET.

COLLISION AT THE INTERSECTION OF KALAUKAUA BLVD AND MEMORY LANE.

This just in from Travel Industry wire services. (I'm not joking).
Tourists to Hawaii can now pay good money (that could be used to pay for health insurance) and have the pleasure of experiencing "President Obama's Tour of Honolulu".
(Or, to those who recognize quality irony..American Capitalism at it's finest, thanks to a Marxist).

From the brochure:
"This very special and amazing tour celebrates our nation's 44th President and one of the world's newest and most powerful leaders. Visitors will be taken on deluxe transportation to key historical locations and learn of the special events and the Hawaiian Culture that has played a key role in shaping President Obama's life. This tour is sure to give you extraordinary stories that can be shared for a lifetime".

Huh....how 'bout that.
"Historic locations and special events and the Hawaiian culture that played a key role in shaping his life"......"Extraordinary stories that can be shared for a lifetime".

Well maybe one day 505 will be elected President.....And then tour operators can host the President 505 Walking Tour of Waikiki.
And rest assured, "historic locations...special events....and extraordinary stories" might be a tad different from Obama's.....

Including, but not limited to.......

The Red Lion Bar on Beachwalk St, home of upside down shots and Jan the bartender who had the most attractive armpits 505 has ever laid eyes upon. (Thank God they put the premium scotch in the overhead storage areas above the barstools).

Augie's Beach Hut Breakfast Grill. Located poolside at the Outrigger Reef Hotel where the owner, cook and chief bottle washer prepared great eggs and bacon, was a man of few words, but far reaching wisdom.

Room 1833 of the Outrigger Towers where 505 received the haircut of his life from two topless Swedish hairdressers in exchange for a trip out to Hanauma Bay.

Sandy Beach, where 505 and his buddy George nearly met untimely ends when they were caught in a rip tide while body surfing. (The fact that we only had two hours of what can best be described as "non-restful" sleep the night before/morning of, did not help).

The Interline Club overlooking Waikiki Beach at the Outrigger Reef, a monument to days gone by when airline employees were treated with more respect than they deserved, and happy hours consisted of 50 cent cocktails and free pupu platters. A great way to start any evening of debauchery on Kalakaua Blvd.

America's banking system (the names change, but the banks are still there) located on Kalaukaua Blvd. They always had an ample supply of 2 dollar bills and Susan B. Anthony dollars available for purchase when we overspent the supply we smuggled in, all for the purpose of terrorizing bartenders and cash drawers in Waikiki haunts. No bar's evening reconciliation was ever accurate when 505 and the boys hit town.

The Shore Bird Lounge, beachside at the Outrigger Reef and home of the World's Longest Running Sunday Afternoon Bikini Contest, who's French manager surrendered one sabbath and allowed 505 and his buddies to drink for free (with "Executive Seating"), rather than have his cash drawers fouled up by 2 dollar bills and Susan B's.

Davy Jones' Locker...the underground bar at the Outrigger Reef, which featured a huge picture window behind the bar. A window that looked into the hotel pool and was conveniently located just beneath the diving board of the pool. A great place to unwind after a long day in the surf with a cordial while watching the end result of young lovelies diving into the pool with loose fitting bikinis.

Buzz's Steakhouse, (now gone, sigh) once located on Saratoga across from the Post Office where 505 never finished the Captain's Seafood Platter and they had the best salad bar in town. Not to be forgotten was it's sister property, Pieces of 8 Seafood House, located directly behind Buzz's on Beachwalk, home of the best steaks in Waikiki, and a selection of waitresses that could fill your fantasy menu of one night stands, 3 day weekends, and long term relationships. AND...their wallpaper consisted of flags from around the world, including an Alaska State Flag donated by our crew. (we got a free desert from the pikers for hauling it all the way across the Pacific Ocean).

The T-shirt shop in the International Market Place, where a specially designed tee was created for 505 one afternoon in response to his disgust at watching smiling Japanese tourists stroll up and down Kalakaua Blvd proudly wearing their "U.S.S. Arizona" baseball caps and T-shirts.
505's Tee Shirt featured a mushroom cloud with a caption that read.. "Made in America, Tested in Japan".

The Crow's Nest Lounge, located on top of some Pirate themed restaurant that we never ate in along Kalakaua. We never ate there cuz the door to the upstairs bar was the 1st entrance we came upon. Long time home (20+ years) of the acoustic duo "The Blue Kangaroo", two guys who besides being decent musicians, were the most insulting, quick witted comedians to ever entertain the tourists and troops. And God help a submariner from Pearl Harbor who stumbled in there unawares.
The laser tongued material hijacked from "The Blue Kangaroo" has gotten 505 into a lot of trouble in his life.
And the bar itself was kinda fun.....free peanuts and throw the shells on the floor.


Now, I ask you.....
Which Tour of Honolulu would you rather shell out 39 bucks for?

VOTE FOR 505 IN TWENTY TWELVE!!!

BUD SELIG TO SPEAK TO AMERICA'S SCHOOLCHILDREN ON TUESDAY

In a stunning revelation yesterday, Major League Baseball announced that Commissioner Bud Selig will deliver an address to the students of Amerika via the MLB Network. During this special address, the Commissioner will speak directly to the nation’s children and youth about persisting and succeeding in baseball. The Commissioner will challenge students to work hard, set achievement goals, and take responsibility for their advancement, and to stay away from the evils of soccer.

Additionally, Major League Baseball, with the assistance of the Baltimore Catechists, er Orioles, has prepared packets for all classrooms in Amerika, that provide a menu of activities for educators to engage in before and after the speech.

Activities include writing exercises that include answering questions like:
Who is the Commissioner of Baseball?
Why is he the Commissioner of Baseball?
How can you be like the Commissioner of Baseball?
Why do you think he is speaking to you?
If you were the Commisioner of Baseball, what would you say to students?
How can students help the Commissioner of Baseball?

Finally, MLB is encouraging all schools to show a recent video production that features past and present Major League Baseball heroes pledging their allegiance to Baseball and Commissioner Selig.
Highlight of the video, entitled "I Pledge" includes a cameo of Derek Jeter appearing at the end saying...
"I Pledge To Be A Servant to Commissioner Selig".

In related news, the Soccer Mom's Who Drive Gas Guzzling Minivans Society has announced plans to withhold their children from school on Tuesday in protest over this planned speech by Commissioner Selig, voicing concerns about what they perceive as a "shameless attempt to brainwash the youth of Amerika".

Officials from MLB have dismissed these charges, asserting that the claims have no merit and are simply racially motivated, in view of the fact that far more African Americans play baseball than play soccer.

And that's just my opinion.....from two time zones away.

CELL PHONES MAY FRY YOUR BRAIN....LITERALLY

In a report newseminated today by leading blogger Bob Mantz (click on his link to the right), it has been been reported for about the millionth time, that cell phones increase the risk of brain cancer and brain tumors.
Here's the link..
http://www.businesswire.com/portal/site/google/?ndmViewId=news_view&newsId=20090825005712&newsLang=en


In related news....
The Ted Kennedy Estate has released the recent brain cancer victim's Fav Five and mentioned that personal injury lawsuits are being considered. The Fav Five include... Michael Jackson, Elvis, Heidi Fleiss, Chris Matthews and Vineyard Liquors and Spirits.

Celebrities worldwide are reexamining their cell phone plans as well as their most frequent callers in an effort to cut down on usage.

However,
Keith "Hair" Olberman says he has no plans to eliminate Joseph Goebbels IV from his contact list.

Sean Hannity pooh-poohed the report and says he will continue, indeed increase his daily chats over his direct spirit line to former Senator Joseph McCarthy.

George W. Bush says he cannot find his cell phone, and asks if anyone finds it to please texture him a message with it's location.

President Barack Obama has asked America not to overreact to this news, as all brain cancer cases will be cured under article 4666, section 302, paragraph 705, lines 5335 through 8666 of his new Health Plan.

Sarah Palin announced that she just eliminated all 212 numbers from her Fav Five, including Bonwit Teller, Bloomingdales, Saks, Macy's and Fortunoffs.

John McCain says there is no need to eliminate any 907 area code numbers from his list, as he hasn't had any for months.

New York Met's Manager Jerry Manuel says he can't wait to eliminate the number to his bullpen.

The family of John Gunther, author of the novel Death Be Not Proud, has announced plans for a re-write and re-release of the acclaimed novel after signing on Verizon as a sponsor to the project.

Military Commanders in Afghanistan have announced plans to air drop 1 million fully charged cell phones over the mountains of Pakistan.

And yours truly has added the Pope's Confessional 900 Hotline to the top of his Fav Five after publishing this entry, fully realizing that it may already be too late to serve any purpose.