And Another Thing …

Waterfront Park was invaded by a group of young Japanese tourists while we were there on Monday.

One of our routes starts us off at the east end of the waterfront walk, and after watching the surfers at Point Panic for a bit, we turned to begin the long walk.

Lo and behold, a passel of young women and a few young men, all wearing what looked like flight attendant uniforms was walking toward us. So we stopped and watched for a while – 10, 20, a whole busload was coming.

And then another bus unloaded and the young people in THAT bus joined the original group.

There must have been a hundred of them. I would have asked who they were, but I was too wrapped up watching.

Some of the young women in one small group flashed peace signs at us.

Slumdog Millionaire (2008)

I went to see this movie before it received its Oscar nomination for Best Picture of 2008. Actually, I first heard about it while watching “Live with Regis and Kelly” one morning.

As I was walking out of the theater, I remember chatting with an elderly couple, all of us predicting that Slumdog Millionaire was going to get an Oscar nomination.

The premise is pretty original. A young man who grew up in the slums of Mumbai, India, is a contestant on the Indian version of “Who Wants to Be a Millionaire?” He’s getting all the answers correct, and the host suspects that he’s somehow cheating, and calls the cops who take him into custody after they break for the day, just before the final question.

The young man – Jamal – is beaten and tortured by the police, who are trying to break him and force him to reveal how he’s cheating. They fail to elicit a confession and Jamal tells them his life story. As each episode of his life is told, it reveals how he learned the correct answer to each of the game show’s questions.

His life story is compelling cinema, a bit graphic and disgusting at times, but all leading up to the final question as Jamal, his brother, and his friend (a young girl around his age) live their lives without adults, growing up, separating, reuniting, getting into trouble, and falling in love. His personal history is simultaneously uplifting and tragic.

Finally, he’s released and appears the next day to face the final question. It’s a question to which everybody in the theater audience knows the answer. And it makes you reflect back to his life history as you urge him to answer correctly.

Slumdog Millionaire certainly earned the nomination.

A Clowder of Cats

Waterfront Park was crawling with cats yesterday – there must have been at least a dozen and a half prancing around the place, some in loose groups of as many as five, most of them loners skittering away from the people walking on the paths.

Feral pussies abound at this park, where a lady comes to feed them out of tuna cans every day, providing them with fresh water as well. For cats without a home, they sure look healthy and well-fed.

I didn’t have my camera with me, but I did have my cell phone and was able to snap a couple of decent pix:

Sunning on the rocks next to the ocean

A little "cluck cluck" caught her attention

The Curious Case of Benjamin Button (2008)

Remember in the movie “Camelot” when King Arthur was explaining Merlin to Guinevere – how Merlin was born old and got younger as the years passed? “He doesn’t grow old, he … youthens.” That’s what Benjamin Button does. He was born old, and as he aged, he … youthened.

And remember the movie “Charly” and Cliff Robertson’s Oscar-winning role as the mentally deficient Charly who undergoes an operation that restores his intelligence, only to slowly slip backwards as the effects wore off? That’s what Benjamin Button does. He grows young all the way back to being a baby who has the intelligence of a … baby.

“The Curious Case of Benjamin Button” is based on a 1921 short story by F. Scott Fitzgerald, and has received 13 Oscar nominations, including Best Picture, Best Director, Best Actor, and Best Supporting Actress.

Brad Pitt and Cate Blanchett give stellar performances as Benjamin, and the love of his life, Daisy. This is one of those movies that makes you smile, that treats you to happy times and tragic downturns, that lifts you up and then knocks you back down again. And, you will leave the theater in awe of movie-making as an art.

The story opens and ends on Monday, Aug. 29, 2005, as Daisy lies on her deathbed, tended by her daughter Caroline (Julia Ormond), who reads Benjamin’s diary to her, unfolding his story from birth to death and everything he experiences in between.

An excellent supporting cast also includes Elle Fanning (Dakota’s little sister), who plays Daisy when we first see her, Taraji Henson (nominated for Best Supporting Actress) as Benjamin’s adoptive mother, and Tilda Swinton (the White Witch of the Chronicles of Narnia series) as his first lover.

There is another star of the movie – the special effects. It’s stunning how they portrayed Brad Pitt as a young and small old man, then transformed him into a tall older (younger) man, then as a young (old) boy. If that sounds confusing, well then you’re just going to have to see for yourself.

Oh, and before I forget, you’re going to love the old codger who had been struck by lightning seven times. He brings on fits of chuckles throughout the movie. Also, keep your eyes open for hummingbirds.

An interesting side note: The year 1958 plays an important role, as far as “Benjamin Button” and my two “Remember?” references are concerned. “Camelot” was based on the 1958 book “The Once and Future King” by T.H. White, a retelling of the Arthurian legend that first appeared in “Le Morte d’Arthur” by Sir Thomas Malory in 1485. “Charly” was based on the book “Flowers for Algernon” also written in 1958 by Daniel Keyes. It was published as a book for the first time in 1966. I read Flowers for Algernon that year. and saw Camelot the day after it premiered in Hollywood.

The Hawaii Local ‘Accent’

People who were born and raised in Hawaii often have an identifiable accent that is not exactly Hawaiian ebonics (what we call “pidgin English”) but I guess is kind of an offshoot of it.

First, a clarification: You’ll notice I didn’t say “Hawaiian.” People outside our state often refer to our residents as Hawaiians, just as we would refer to residents of other states as Californians or Illini or Floridians. If there were no native Hawaiians then I guess that would be acceptable, but it’s not an accurate description of Hawaii residents. In fact, those with Hawaiian ancestry would find it quite objectionable and offensive. Okay, that’s taken care of.

Here’s an example of the accent: How would you pronounce the word “street”?

Most Americans would say “s-chreet,” ‘cause that’s the way they taught us in school. Or, if we are more particular in our pronunciation and conscious of what we say, we’d say “s-treet,” as it was meant to be pronounced.

But in Hawaii, many say “sh-chreet.” I don’t know what it is about the letters “str” at the start of the word. It’s just shchrange how local Hawaii people shchruggle with those three little letters.

That’s enough for today. But I promise that I’ll shchress more peculiarities of the Hawaii local accent later.

ObaMAnia Silliness

Zippy’s, Honolulu’s famous coffee shop, jumped on the Obama-Mania (ObaMAnia) bandwagon this month by discounting their saimin soup (Zip Min) at a discount.

They discounted the soup $1.20 because the inauguration of President Barack Obama (being claimed as a hometown boy by the people of Hawaii) took place on Jan. 20 (1/20).

Their saimin soup is really very delicious, but this ObaMAnia thing in Hawaii is really getting silly.

Underwater Ironing Record Topped!

The previous record for the most people ironing underwater at the same time, held by the Australians, was broken this week by a team in England.

Eighty-six extreme ironists of the Yorkshire Divers topped the Aussies’ previous high of 72 (set in Melbourne, Australia last year) at the National Diving and Activity Centre in Chepstow, Wales.

Their efforts raised £6,000 (about $8,250) for the Royal National Lifeboat Institution.

Each of the ironists had to iron one item of linen within a 10-minute time limit while totally submerged in 41-degree water.

Although 128 qualified divers participated, many were disqualified for starting too early, or for exceeding the time limit. Eleven underwater photographers recorded the event.

My question is, how do you know when you’re done ironing? When the piece is dry? Huh?

Paul Blart: Mall Cop (2009)

If I had paid to see this movie, I would have demanded double my money back.

If you examine Kevin James’ character’s name closely and try to rhyme it with something, you may come up with what I did – Paul Blart (foul fart). An appropriate rhyme, ‘cause this movie stinks.

Can you believe that last weekend, this sorry excuse for a movie was #1 at the box office? That’s $31.8 million worth of #1. So much for today’s teens being intelligent.

Kevin James (principal character AND co-producer with Adam Sandler) has made better movies, I’m sure (if you can think of one, please enlighten me). But in this one, he’s a loser. Adam Sandler has definitely made better movies.

Jayma Mays (the love interest) is a one-dimensional shallow-comedy actress without a top movie to her name. I will say she has the biggest eyeballs I’ve ever seen in a person.

I give it 9 fingers down. Save yourself the price of admission. Use it to rent Ice Age.

Presidential Applause-O-Meter

I happened to turn on the TV this morning just as they were about to introduce the nation’s past-presidents at the Presidential Inauguration ceremonies in Washington DC. Not planning to watch the whole shootin’ shebang of an inauguration, I thought I’d hang around for a few to see how the presidents looked.

They looked … old. President Carter looked old the day he stepped out of office. President Bush I is walking poorly with a side-to-side sway. President Clinton’s hair is whiter than white. President Bush II has wrinkles galore.

But that’s a subject for another time, and for someone else to write about.

I paid attention to the crowd applause when each president was introduced, and graded the ovation on a scale of 1 to 10 (the one with the loudest cheers received the 10). Granted the coverage wasn’t equal for all of them, and the crowd was likely minority- and Democrat-heavy, but here’s the way I saw (and heard it):

Bill Clinton: 10
Jimmy Carter: 7
George H.W. Bush: 5
George W. Bush: 1

Of course, President-Elect Obama’s welcome was off the charts.

'Historic Photos of Honolulu’ (Clifford Kapono)

There’s a sumptuous new coffee table book of Honolulu out, featuring old photographs of the city and its people. When I say old, I’m talking 1850 to 1970, a period of 120 years. Historic Photos of Honolulu was sent to me by the publisher for review, and I finally got a chance to put a couple of free hours together to peruse the work.

There are three keys to a good book of photographs. The first is to select great photographs from the greatest variety of sources. The second is to do extensive research that ties the social and commercial growth of the subject with the selected images. And lastly, the text and captions must be easy to read without sacrificing the importance of the research.

I am pleased to say that Historic Photos of Honolulu succeeds on all three fronts.

The book is printed exclusively in black and white. Yet like the great pre-Technicolor movies, the pictures are perfectly conveyed in this scheme. They benefited by some enhancement, but as the author (Clifford Kapono) says in his preface:

With the exception of cropping images where needed and touching up imperfections that have accrued over time, no other changes have been made to the photographs.

That’s quite a testament to the skills of the old-time photographers and their studio work, and the quality of their equipment and supplies.

There are a couple of “I didn’t know that” discoveries I made. I didn’t know that the song “Sweet Leilani” as sung by Bing Crosby while filming Waikiki Wedding in 1937 Hawaii won an Oscar for Best Song (Page 151). I didn’t know that the Halekulani is famous to this day for its coconut cake (Page 177).

Many of the pictures are personally nostalgic. I remember staying overnight at the Alexander Young Hotel in 1954 on a trip from Hilo to San Francisco. I remember staying at the Waikiki Biltmore Hotel in 1960 when my father took us kids to Honolulu on Thanksgiving so we could see the “big city” and not grow up to be “country hicks.”

Unfortunately, being a former newspaper editor in Los Angeles and writing professor at the University of Hawaii, I can’t help but be a bit critical of any inconsistencies that pop up in the captioning:

Pages 18-20: Throughout the book, captions on left-hand pages (verso) are flush left, and those on the right-hand pages (recto) are flush right – except on these three pages where somebody lost their focus.

Page 169: The word “further” in the sentence, “As the beach grew in demand, the local people moved further back from the shoreline” should be “farther.”

Page 187: The caption, “Palm trees wave in front of the Castle & Cooke Building in the 1950s” is just stating the obvious. I’ve always believed that pictures speak for themselves and that captions should provide additional information that brings the pictures to life.

Humor, whether intentional or not I don’t know, crept into the caption on Page 133: “This Chevrolet was a popular model of the times; today fancy imports and high-end luxury cars are seen all over Honolulu, most stuck in traffic."

Actually, that last one is not a criticism, but rather an observation. Kapono does make political, social and cultural observations in his captioning – astutely, skillfully and tastefully. I rather enjoyed discovering these little tidbits.

If you get a chance to read the book, do so. Buy or borrow a copy and wander through it; in the process you will wander through a history of Honolulu, make a few discoveries of your own, and receive an education in Hawaii’s history and growth in the process.

Historic Photos of Honolulu
Text and Captions by Clifford Kapono
$39.95 Turner Publishing
ISBN-13: 978-1-59652-499-6

Much Ado ‘Bout Nothing

“Better safe than sorry,” they’re saying this morning after all the anticipated high winds (gusts up to 60 miles per hour) they predicted for Honolulu yesterday didn’t materialize.

They closed the public schools. They talked the private schools into closing. They excused the city workers from work. They excused the state workers from work. They closed the parks. They put the buses on holiday schedule. They had emergency crews on alert. They told us to stock up on batteries.

As a result, thousands of people took advantage of their unplanned day off and flocked to Costco where the wife was trying to get prescriptions filled. The kids flooded the theater matinees.

And the winds didn’t arrive. It was pretty breezy, I’d have to say. But 60 mph winds? Hardly. The only thing that blew away was taxpayers’ money, which they used to pay the teachers and government workers who were unproductive yesterday.

Governments tend to be over-cautious these days, which I suppose is good. However, when these miscalculations occur, they erode the public’s faith in our leaders and “experts.” And it’s another kick in the butt for our weather people.

Weather predicting is fairly accurate but subject to the whims of Mother Nature.

Nice try, people, but this time you blew it. “Better safe than sorry” doesn’t cut it when it costs us taxpayers money we can better use elsewhere in this struggling economy.

Lunching With an Good Friend

Melissa Chang and I have known each other for more than 20 years, having first met when she was a new hire at Starr Seigle McCombs (SSM) advertising agency in Honolulu, and I was with Professional Communications (ProComm) public relations in the next building. That’s when SSM purchased ProComm and we all moved over to where Melissa was so she could join our staff.

Once in a while (not often enough), we get together for lunch and relive the “good ol’ days” of the ‘80s and ‘90s, when the agency business was going strong. We make the same age-old snide remarks about fellow employees and clients we didn’t like, and wonder what our favorite fellow employees and clients are doing now.

We met for lunch at Paesano (see my restaurant blog, A Place for My Taste, for that report), a wonderful Italian food restaurant just up the street from my home. She wanted to show me some old stamps and get an idea of their worth, now that she is between jobs and had some time to spare for me.

What a great lunch it was. We talked about the experiences and fun we have writing our respective blogs. She authors one called “Urban Mixed Plate” about life in the Kakaako area of Honolulu. Melissa has always been an excellent writer, and I encourage you to take a look at her blog: http://urbanmixplate.honadvblogs.com/.

It was actually kind of hilarious when our meals arrived and before we started eating. Both of us whipped out our cameras and took several pictures of our food. Then, we asked our waitress to take a picture of the two of us before we messed up our plates – so the waitress took one with my camera, one with her camera, and one with her phone. I was tempted to whip out MY phone and get another picture, but thought the better of it.

I wonder if Melissa will write about our lunch in HER blog?

Super Bowl I

Forty-two years ago, on this date, January 15, 1967, the first Super Bowl was played in Los Angeles. And I was there.

It wasn’t known as the “Super Bowl” that year, or for a few years after that. Instead, it was called the “AFL-NFL World Championship Game” and featured the NFL champion Green Bay Packers and the AFL champion Kansas City Chiefs. The Packers won 35-10.

We sat in the end-zone bleacher seats and paid a hefty $25 for the privilege. What I remember most about the game was that it was a smoggy day in Los Angeles (is that an oxymoron?) and when the teams got to the other end of the field, you could hardly see what was going on because of the gray haze.

Thankfully (for us, but not for the NFL), attendance wasn’t overwhelming. There were only 64,946 fans in the stands, far below the Memorial Coliseum’s capacity of 100,000. As a result, they let us bleacherites move into seats on the 10-yard line. I’m sure that was for the benefit of the TV cameras.


(Vince Lombardi accepting the championship trophy from NFL commissioner Pete Roselle)

Ode to My Urologist

I went to see the doc today,
(The annual inspection),
I filled it up, the plastic cup,
With nary a perplextion.

I went to see him in the room,
He made me turn around,
“Loosen up,” I heard him say,
“And drop them on the ground.”

There’s a doctor over there
With his finger in the air.
Oh my goodness, oh my goodness!

There’s a doctor over here
With his finger in my rear!
Oh my goodness, OH MY GOODNESS!

The end. Until next year, that is.

Back In the Saddle Again

After a taking a couple of months off from our Monday walks due to rainy weather, holiday travel and guests, we resumed our modest exercise regimen this week, making our grand tour of Honolulu’s Waterfront Park once again.

Nothing much has changed at the park since we last walked there. As usual, I looked for anything out of the ordinary and except for spotting a couple of Brazilian cardinals, couldn’t find a thing different.

There were the usual banded and barred doves, mynah birds, feral cats, a couple of white egrets, and 7 Pacific golden plovers.

We bumped into a friendly lady we’d seen there many times; she interrupted her singing while walking to say hi to us. The cat lady was there as usual, feeding the feral cats, and the same homeless guy with his little tent was taking his nap on the grass.

Except for the fact that my butt and thighs started aching from under-use, it felt good to be back in the saddle again.

Computer Connection Problems

If you’ve missed seeing me here the past week or so, it’s because my computer and the Internet were trading punches and having it out at my expense.

I’ve had to do my Ebay transactions and emailing at Kinko’s temporarily.

One thing good came out of it, however. I’ve been wanting to renew my passport but have put off getting a new passport picture. Kinko’s offers that service, so I took care of THAT while there.

What was the problem? My cable modem had gone defective. So, I had to stand in line at the Oceanic Cable counter for an hour and a half until my number was called. The bottom line is that it was worth it and my Internet works again.

It feels good to be back online.

Friday’s Sports Miscellany

Atlanta Braves

Pitcher John Smotz is no longer with the Atlanta Braves. They didn’t do right by him in their contract offer and let him escape to the Boston Red Sox.

They shouldn’t have let him go. Granted he’s in the twilight of his years, but he is a guaranteed future Hall of Famer. And, he’s been with the Braves as long as I can remember.

The Braves just aren’t the Braves without John Smotz.

Hula Bowl

Hawaii’s premier college football all-star game is nowhere to be seen after 62 years. It’s apparently dead and gone.

That’s too bad. But having said that, I have to confess that I hadn’t been to a Hula Bowl since the mid-‘70s when Heisman Trophy winner Charlie White didn’t play and apologized to the fans in attendance before the start of the game.

There was a time when it was the only game in town – except for high school games and the pitiful University of Hawaii – and the stadiums (Honolulu Stadium, AKA the “Termite Palace” and Aloha Stadium were packed. They moved it to Maui for a couple of years. That was a disaster; who wants to go to Maui for a football game anyway?

Aloha, Hula Bowl. RIP.

Bowl Championship Series (BCS) Championship

The Florida Gators beat the Oklahoma Sooners 24-14 Thursday in a game that only came to life toward the end. What a boring game THAT turned out to be.

For their accomplishment, the Florida Gators were crowned BCS champions, and deservedly so. They had a great season, working their way up to #2 and the right to face #1 Oklahoma in the championship game.

But the BCS system controversy rages on. Honolulu Advertiser sports columnist Ferd Lewis echoed my heretofore unarticulated thoughts this morning:

It really settled only one thing: the Gators were better finishers than Oklahoma last night.

But as for certifying a true, honest-to-goodness national championship? P-l-e-a-s-e. All it did was whet the appetite for what should be the next game in an eight- or even 16-team playoff.

Our vote in The Associated Press media poll went to Florida – narrowly – over Utah and USC, but we’d have no quibble for anyone who voted for any of the others. The Gators might very well be the BCS champions and the best team in the land, but national champions? Not yet.

And that’s exactly what I think.

Politeness and Respect

Have you noticed that society is becoming less and less respectful of everyone and everything than it used to be? I fear that as the world spins faster and faster, we are becoming a ruder people.

Case in point: The American presidency. I remember when newspaper stories would always refer to the United States president as “Mr.” In fact, I remember reading this dictum in the very first Associated Press Stylebook that I owned. Whenever people referred to the president in everyday conversation, we’d also pay him that respect.

No more. Now it’s “Bush,” and “Clinton” and “Reagan” and “Carter” and lately, “Obama.”

The American news media are the instigators of this change. Do you remember when they changed? It was when Richard Nixon’s shameful Watergate cover-ups were being reported. That’s when the news media dropped the respectful “Mr.” title. President Nixon’s actions lost the respect that our nation’s presidents had enjoyed.

I guess as a people, we are our own worst enemies when it comes to being polite and respectful.

Serendipity at the Movies

I went to a movie yesterday – “Valkyrie,” starring Tom Cruise. The previews looked promising and the movie started out just fine (loud battle action), but then they lost me. I think it’s because I knew the outcome and that the movie essentially is about a failure.

It’s based on a true attempt by disenchanted military leaders and politicians to assassinate Adolph Hitler and seize control of the German government.

If the intent was to show that heart-felt beliefs should be carried out to their eventual conclusion, even if it means failure, then that’s fine. But the movie didn’t involve me emotionally. I felt like I was in a theater watching Tom Cruise acting in a movie.

I’d rate it 2 stars out of a possible 5.

And then I sneaked into a second movie (don’t tell anyone now!) – “Bedtime Stories,” starring Adam Sandler. I know, I know … Sandler’s movies are always silly. But I guess I was in the mood for a silly, funny movie.

It was shallow, but funny. Sandler at least seems to know when his character is going over the top, and exercises a little restraint. And, Keri Russell, who plays his love interest, is a cutie. This is a movie you can bring the kids to see.

Skip Valkyrie, rent Bedtime Stories.

Marie Antoinette (2006)

Written and directed by Sofia Coppola (daughter of producer Francis Ford Coppola), "Marie Antoinette" is a sumptuous movie. Ohh, such magnificent scenery, all top-quality postcard material. This is 18th-Century France, when life among the royals was elegant and extravagant, and the stuff of which major envy is made.

Kirsten Dunst is Marie Antoinette, the teen-age royal from Austria who is the arranged bride of Louis XVI of France, a most necessary union that ensures the alliance between two great European nations. Dunst is the focus of the film, of course, and fits the part to a T … she exudes royalty and innocence, performing the majesty required of the future queen of France.

Jason Schwartzman plays Louis XVI, son of King Louis XV and dauphin (heir apparent to the throne). You may remember him as Max Fischer from his breakout performance in 1998’s “Rushmore.” The young dauphin ascends to the throne when both he and Marie Antoinette are, in his words, “too young.”

It is also a time of revolution, as France sends money and troops to America to help the colonists fight the British, so they can make a statement and posture against their historic enemy. Unfortunately, this virtually bankrupts France and sends its citizens into quite the frenzy. You can read the consequences of THAT issue in Charles Dickens’ “A Tale of Two Cities.”

“Marie Antoinette” is a sumptuous movie. Oh, I already said that. Well, it IS. There really is no story line. You might say it’s rather like a diary of Marie Antoinette from the moment she crossed the Austria-France boundary, leaving behind everything Austrian (believe me, EVERYTHING) when she entered the “transitional tent,” emerging as everything French. And it concludes with her leaving the Palace of Versailles after it's been trashed by the citizenry, on her way to her date with Monsieur Le Guillotine.

It’s a diary for sure. Kind of like “Today I went walking in the garden … Today I went to church before breakfast … Last night the King and I didn’t make love again … Today we went to Paris … Today we walked in the garden … Today the King went hunting.” It is almost like a travelogue, a documentary of what life was like amongst the royals of the time – you know, powdered faces and wigs, expensive clothes, grand horses and carriages.

Marie Antoinette was bored a lot, so she did what many do when they’re bored. She went shopping … except they didn’t have many upscale stores for royalty at the time, so basically, the stores came to her … sweets and materials, wigs and dresses, bedclothes, shoes … SHOES! More shoes, and more elegant shoes than Imelda Marcos could ever dream of.

When you’re bored or dissatisfied with your lot in life, watch it on dvd and just drown yourself in the opulence. You can descend back to Earth at your own chosen speed.

Do I recommend it? Well, yes and no. Yes for the magnificence of the movie, No if you’re looking for a good story. Ah heck, go see it anyway, or rent the dvd (I wouldn’t recommend buying it).

New Year’s Sushi Hell

When we first returned to Hawaii in 1972, I had no idea what was to be in store for me come New Year’s Eve each year. Every year. Every single year.

It was the soon-to-be dreaded … SUSHI HELL!

We returned to Hawaii from Los Angeles in 1972. Our first couple of years back, I didn’t participate in sushi-making on the last day of the year. The wife’s family owns a local-style delicatessen, and took orders for maki sushi (black rolls), inarizushi (cone), and oshizushi (pressed), along with other food that people would serve on New Year’s Eve or Day.

Then, one day they asked me to help by manning the front and packing up customer orders. So I did that – very boring work, except when the production people in the back fell behind and the waiting customers piled up.

The situation got worse and worse over the years, the number of orders picked up, and soon there were dozens of eyes staring at me for minutes, then hours (turning irritated after long waits). It began to get on my nerves, so I learned how to roll sushi, in order to stay in the back, away from those eyes, and at least keep the sushi rolls moving out to the front. This was at the end of 1978.

I got to be a pretty fast roller, picking up speed year after year. At the top of my form, I was able to roll one sushi every 20 seconds or so (two a minute). Unfortunately, I HAD to do that in order to keep up with the order-packing going on outside, for the orders kept growing and growing.

I’d get there at 6 a.m. Dec. 31, and finish around 9 p.m. Eventually, it became a 2 a.m. to 11 p.m. job punctuated by aching hands, sore arms and shoulders, a painful back, chafed buttocks and thighs, and numb fingers and feet. It was hell, pure hell.

Finally one year, I could swear I was having a heart attack, but the pressure to continue was relentless. I remember that night like it was yesterday – I had a splitting headache, my eyes were blurry, my left arm was numb, my neck hurt, my brain was swirling, I couldn't concentrate, my right wrist had stabbing pains, I hurt all over, my heart was palpitating, I couldn’t sit down without hurting, I couldn’t lie down without hurting, and I couldn’t stand up without hurting. Probably the only way I would have been comfortable was to lie in a bathtub filled with warm water.

I’d gotten there at 1 a.m., and got home a few minutes before midnight. It was all I could do to stand in the shower, brush my teeth, shave before the New Year, and drop painfully off to sleep.

That year, I had hit my record for rolling – 750+ rolls (I can only estimate because when I finished my 15th package of nori, I went into numb-mode and may or may not have made a few more). And, I daresay, nobody has matched that number of rolls before or after I accomplished it.

That’s when I made a vow never to subject myself to that kind of personal hell again. The next year on, I refused to get to the deli before 10 a.m., and made it a point to leave at about 8 p.m. And, I slowed down considerably. They had to bring in more help, I’m sure, because my production fell to about a third of that stupid record night.

The last time I rolled sushi on New Year’s Eve was on Dec. 31, 2001. The following two years, I attended corporate meetings that week on the mainland. Then, the family gave up the ghost and stopped taking New Year’s Eve orders for good.

Good riddance, I say. No wonder I have been grouchy every New Year’s Day in Hawaii.