Halloween 2008

Jamie went as Editor of Surfs Up, Dude! Magazine

My costume was met with a lot of wide eyes from the neighbor kids. "Is that your real wedding dress?" was the question of the night.

Tricks-or-cheeks

Our neighbor Macy was our first guest for tricks-or-treats. Cheeks, cheeks and more cheeks!

Halloween Oh-Eight...

OK, Kids... we're all carved and ready to go. We got home at 4:30 and I got carving right away. Jamie doesn't like the "guts" and is disgusted by the whole process of gutting and carving so I am on my own. I am not too creative in the creation of faces but I did go with a cork for the nose of one... more so because the space between the eyes and the mouth was small and I was worried the whole face would cave in. Ok, Kids... come and get it!

It is now 4 a.m. in Maui, from which we departed last night at 5:20 p.m. and headed to Oahu for our 9:10 redeye to Seattle, and we're killing another three hours by reading (Patty, who has hit the home stretch of a book with too many pages and too few pictures -- none, actually) and waiting for the sun to come up, if only for it to give us some sense of what day it is. I've also kicked in for the $7.99 fee to access the Internet, and we're going to see if we can fire up Slingbox to tear Patty away from all that reading.

Sun returns to the sky. We return to the beach. One last day of SPF 30 for me, one last day of taking in as many rays as possible for Patty.
The day was packed a little tight, as our cab would take us back to the airport at 3:40 p.m. and there was some packing and cleaning to do, but it ranked up there as another beauty.
With the waves crashing as hard as we would see at any point in our stay (whitecaps on the bay), we would eventually have the chance to hone our boogie boarding skills. We're not quite world class yet, but we didn't drown, either, in the three-plus-foot "swells" that were ripping across the jetty to our immediate left.

We also spent a good amount of time playing catch with a waterproof football and soaking in enough sun to last at least through next week.

We had lunch on the beach, returned for the cleaning and packing portion of the program and hit the road for the airport.

On the way, our cabbie, a one-time New Jersey resident who decided to pick up his life and move to Maui after a two-week surfing trip in the late 1970s, predicted a 90 percent Obama win in Hawaii's presidential election. Those four electoral votes should come in handy likely three hours after polls close in the West.

Smothered in Vog?

For some, it is overexposure to the sun that makes them crazy. For us, a lack of it seemed to affect us, and we set a course specifically to shop for others. We headed north, took a left toward West Maui and stopped at a shopping center for gifts to bring home. I, stingy, figured generosity begins at home and bought only flip-flops for myself and lunch for the two of us at a nice little find (water view, $3 margaritas, pulled pork sandwiches, wacky waitress [but not as wacky as the lady at the surf shop who asked us twice within 10 minutes, and with all sincerity, where we were from, and had that hippie, "that's cool, man" thing down ... plus she drew a little art scene on a paper bag and spoke fondly of the California Golden Seals], and HD TVs), while Patty reminded me that she has a bigger heart and spent not only on herself.

We spent the rest of the afternoon running important non-beach errands (still too hazy), such as washing the car, getting pedicures (Patty, and only Patty), napping (me, concurrent with the pedicure), and picking up a few last-minute purchases as we try to hold on to the fact we're only here for another 24 hours. Sad but true. Thankfully, we were able to find a treat along the way, though we missed Starbucks, which meant a third trip to our local outdoor mall for ice cream, a cookie and a couple of coffee products that should either push our last dinner off a bit or, at least, keep us from spending another $100 on it.

And now a word from Patty...

Ok, Ok... I know I am not the writer in the family... but I feel like I really need to get my two cents in here, though let it be known that while James has been writing, I have been editing, picking out photos and posting it all. Today I will have to post a photo of, well, not today. We did not take many photos today and what we did take are still in the camera which is not here right now.

I have a confession to make, and if I were on an MTV reality show I would be sitting in a burgundy velvet draped room with a tissue to my eye telling the world the horrid truth... we did not go to the beach today. It's true. No sand between our toes, no waves crashing at our legs, no sun screen dripping in to our eyes. We awoke this morning to a cloudy sky, "it will burn off" I assured James... but not necessarily myself. It looked as gloomy as it's looked since we've been here (which really is not all that gloomy).

As for my pedicure... it was AWESOME! I tried like crazy to get James to come with me. I'm all, "there are ladies and you soak your feet and they massage your legs..." Nope, he would not bite. We pulled up in front of this place with a sign that said "Foot Massage" and another tiny sign that read "manicure pedicure". Hmm, sketchy, but I was up for an adventure. I know that "massage" can mean different things in different places, especially when located in an out-of-the-way little strip of shops in an area that is"less nice". I walked in and man with a pleasant smile asked what I would like, "pedicure", I said with little confidence. I had wanted a manicure too, but thought it best to test the waters with my feet. "Pick color, come back," he said and disappeared behind a satiny curtain. I chose an irridescenty pink-purple, The name of the color escapes me now. I grabbed the color, stepped in to what looked more like a cocktail lounge than a nail salon. "Yum!" I thought. There were overstuffed couches and lounge chairs and a few people scattered about in various stages of manicures and pedicures. The gal was sweet and did a lovely job on my toes. I paid a few dollars extra to get the parafin wax and the head and neck massage. Towards the end the gal said, "your friend, he is in car, sleeping... he should come in and get massage and take nap." I told her that I tried to get him to come in but he would rather sit in the car in the sweltering heat and wait for me. Wimp. Maybe next time.

Oh... and they are saying we are smothered in Vog here. Apparently that is like smog or fog, but it comes from Volcanic sulfur. That is what they are saying on the news, but that is for another island and James is saying that we just have haze, so perhaps I really have no idea what I am talking about.

For the third day in a row, I had to ask what day it was. Turns out it's Tuesday, which is nice insofar as this is the first time we woke up to a day for the second time in our stay, but kind of a bummer in that we're down to 1.5 days here.

As of 9:35 a.m., we're looking at the first legitimately overcast day so far, which means Patty can finally feel good about getting her nails did. Here's an idea for the entrepreneurial among you: open up a nail salon outdoors, preferably on the water, so no travelers feel guilty staying indoors in paradise.

OK, we're going to figure out how to navigate the day.

Monday Continued...

On our way to dinner, we found out that our Haleakala trip was put in jeopardy due to our party of two being the only people who booked a trip. There was an option to leave, rather than at 8 a.m., at 3 a.m. for the "sunrise" trip. We'd think about it. For about three minutes. ...

No go. Would this vacation suffer from not going? Not at all.

So we made it to dinner at a fancy beachside place a few miles north of here (but not before making a side trip to take a bad picture of an inline hockey rink basically on the shore near Fred's Mexican; it was a picture better in theory for its novelty than in practices). We were treated well in spurts, by a waiter who had a thing for rearranging the oil and vinegar, but the food did not disappoint, with Patty going for chicken/corn chowder/onion rings and me mowing down a pork chop/potato/asparagus combo.

Maui Monday

We set our bar low today, and, as of 1:25 p.m. have achieved little. We kicked it off with some CNN and cereal, breakfast of champions.

Made a call to book our Haleakala trip (a bike ride that will have us coasting down from 6,000 feet above the sea) tomorrow, then walked to the beach for the rest of the morning. Luckily, a Ross The Intern type (before the weight loss), loud on the beach Saturday, was back, and we got to hear about the time he went book shopping with Glen Close. We also hear Portia de Rossi and Ellen DeGeneres were seen strolling the path in front of the condo this morning.

Patty says we're getting up early tomorrow.

Red Sox hat count on the beach: three, including mine. Yankees hats: one, worn by Ross The Intern.

Patty read another bunch of pages and I read another profile in a magazine -- this one on John McCain, whose casual relationship with the truth is the focus of a Rolling Stone cover story.

Typical liberal media.

Between words, we passed judgment on those who tried to enter the water for any activity.

We're back now for a bit to eat lunch and cool off, then we'll return to the beach for the rest of the day, and we'll come back here, clean up and head out for dinner.

Lazy Hawaiian Sunday

Greeted with no real plan out of the gate, we decided to eat. Shocker.

We broke two streaks here, paying for breakfast and not seeing the ocean from our table. The stack of pancakes made up for it, as did the hash browns that sent us on our way back to West Maui, where we heard we might find one of the world's most beautiful beaches, Kapalua Beach in Kapalua. We were not told, however, that we would be met with a parking situation at odds with the suggestion. JOE!, staying at the Ritz nearby, likely had a parking spot.

After a little circling, we swiped a spot near a beach just to the south of Kapalua, though, and, but for a scorching sun, it worked out perfectly. Sharp incline from the sandy beach into the ocean made for the strongest current we've seen on an otherwise serene beach.

The aforementioned sun chased us into lunch at the seaside restaurant, which offered yet another stunner of a view of the Pacific, this time south and toward what might have been Hana on the other side of the bay. We stopped for a few pictures on the way back and were home, after a Starbucks stop, by 4:30 p.m.

Even cereal looks pretty good next to a rainbow, and, thanks to one appearing outside the lanai at sunset, we finally have some decent pictures to prove rainbows do exist. Even more thrilling may be the fact we were able to figure out the workings of the remote control.

For those of you who know us, I think it's important to point out that we made it this far without being able to change the channel without getting up from the couch.

Tomorrow? More vacation. Maybe a bike ride down Haleakala. Maybe not.

Ahh, Saturday

We're at 8:30 a.m., and it looks like the sun will come out yet again today. The plan is to take the sea kayak for a ride in the morning, putter around for some lunch and shopping midday, return to the beach with the boogie boards and flippers, and see how it goes. The car may not move until dinner.

This, of course, is all subject to change.

As it turns out, the water activities reminded us that it isn't easy to show up merely with the equipment and an interest in that activity. We were pretty much the guy on the first day of hockey tryouts who shows up with all new top-of-the-line gear gleaming, all of which makes it sadder when things don't go so well.

Our kayak drew rave reviews from the guys working at the Four Seasons as we walked by, and they would be treated to a couple of amateurs trying to launch the thing.

We made it out there, and even suffered another injury -- Patty sliced open her finger when one wave gave us a little yard sale incident. Once shoved off and at sea, the view offered from the new perspective certainly made up for her wound, though I'd have preferred less rinsing of the blood in the water on account of the sharks. Either way, we managed to stay on the high seas for about 40 minutes.

Phew. Water: We were made to float on it, boat on it, surf on it, throw footballs and do handstands when it's shallow, but we weren't meant to go UNDER. Besides the collapsing lungs and inability to breathe, that's where there are sharks, snapping turtles and unforgiving reefs. As the son and brother of former Coasties, I am proud to conquer the seas at arm's length of its threats.

We took our lunch back on the lanai (taking the kayak back was less dangerous, but also heavier), continuing our run of eating every meal within sight of the ocean, and returned to the beach with flippers, snorkels and masks. Only slightly more smooth than the kayak entrance, we waddled our way backward into suitable snorkeling waters and put in another 40 harrowing minutes of dodging of the ocean's menaces. Patty took some pictures with an underwater camera and I calculated the odds of being spotted, tracked and attacked by a shark. Thankfully, it's a big ocean, and there were a number of other snorkelers nearby, including one with a bloody finger, so I could relax.

While I may not be ready to audition for Deep Blue, Patty's chances took a hit, too, when both the kayaking and the snorkeling made her queasy. Maybe it was the blood loss.

Persevering, we made it back to Fred's for another sunset dinner. No leftovers this time.

An aside ...
A vacation can also serve as a time of reflection.
To that end, the following conversation took place after lunch on the lanai.
"Has this time here helped give you any sort of clarity on what you might want to do next?"
"Yes. This. Come to Maui four times a year for eight to 10 days."

OK then.

To Life, to Life, Lahaina!

By the way, Boomerang is from 1992, while Point Break is from 1991.

On JOE!'s suggestion, we decided to road trip to Lahaina, and it didn't take long to like the place. Only about a 40-minute drive up the Maui coast and a hard left at West Maui, this was a little like Provincetown without the subculture. Shops on the sea, a charming/quirky/odd downtown with restaurants on the water and lots of A/C-friendly buildings -- all of which gave me a chance to test life without sunblock. Lunch: tuna melt on one plate, club sandwich on the other. Both quite good.

A few hours went by quickly. (We stayed as long as we could, though, trying to get the most of our parking fee. Five dollars for 30 minutes, $10 for 2-6 hours and $20 for, like, way longer. As I slid my $20 into the meter, Patty appeared over my shoulder and read that "NO CHANGE" would be dispensed. We will almost make up for this financial mistake later.) We headed for the "I'll buy a vowel" town of Ka'anapali. Excellent choice. Despite every parking sign in a shopping complex on the ocean reading "NO BEACH PARKING," we were told we should park right there. We did. A few hundred yards later, we were on yet another soft sand beach, watching the waves roll in.

Not surprisingly, I napped. Patty read.

We stopped on the ride home, again driving by the escort of a stunning sunset, at a Safeway for more "staples," (while not on an official Starbucks mission, we did find a new Starbucks location) and, $74 later, saving $18.40 as new Safeway Club members, we had a dinner that we'd cook at home.

I made the chicken, which was, not surprisingly, outstanding, even though it was cooked on a grill I'd never used before. I'm a gamer. Patty took care of the sides, and we ate it about 18 inches away from the 46-inch flat screen above the dining room table. (A heartwarming edition of Wife Swap.)

In all, we chalk it up as the fifth consecutive great day in Maui.

Hula!

Patty finally caved in to the Facebook frenzy.

It's now nearly 9 a.m., which is very late for a Hawaiian morning, but the sun hasn't quite come out to invite us to the beach yet, either.

"We should put these away soon," Patty said, referring to the computers.

Sounds good.

While the sun may not be out, there are vacationers running, scuba'ing, snorkeling, catamaran'ing, floating on sea kayaks and standing surf-board'ing on the other side of the window here.

We were also able to make coffee this morning, and, once that kicks in, so may we.
Off to the beach we went, but I was quickly bored by the limited seating positions offered by a towel. If you're not napping, you're kind of just sitting there. Sitting. Sitting. Sitting.

Patty knocked out another chunk of her book (continuing her record of reading more of a book in one sitting than I ever have), while I read a few magazine profiles -- Sarah Palin and Marlon Brando -- to prove than I am also literate when there are big pictures around the words. And then I napped.

Back to the condo for lunch again (ahh, A/C), followed by the beach, Round 2. Greeted this time by a chaise lounge, I was much less likely to complain. There's something about sitting like a normal human being. The sun wasn't blaring down on us either, so maybe that's why there was less critique.

We also went with a water activity -- boogie boarding. We were about average at riding the waves, but when you're out there and finally catch a good, long ride, you realize what everyone was talking about in Point Break. Johny Utah? I get it now.

By early afternoon, we had also booked ourselves a fancy seat at a luau. I don't remember a luau scene from Point Break, and maybe that's where it all fell apart for that film. It certainly wasn't the fault of the cast of Patrick Swayze, Gary Busey or Lori Petty, all of whom were overlooked at Oscar time.

Our luau table neighbors were JOE! and his wife FROM CHICAGO!, STEVE! and his young wife FROM NEW MEXICO!, their friends on the other side of the table and a couple from Grand Forks who wore a matching outfit with green flowers. (And, by "matching," this means her dress and his shirt were made out of the same material. Got to coord'nate. Which movie reference is older? Point Break or Boomerang? Answer later.)

Because Patty put her card down for the luau, I treated it like a free buffet. Pork, chicken, beef, potatoes, pasta, cole slaw, salad. I remember hoping that the plates were sturdy when we made our way to the buffet. Free drinks, too.

Out-of-character alert!

Before the show began, Patty was coerced into learning to hula on the stage. She was up there with a bunch of strangers, who provided moral support, and she betrayed no signs of being mortified. Either way, she looked great in the dress she had picked up a few days earlier. As an aside, Patty also looks great on the beach. I, sadly, look like E.T., but without the color.

Anyway ...

Drums, fire, hulas, storytelling and semi-awkward conversation with the neighbors followed, but this was a priceless night and well worth the money (easy for me to say). We capped it off with a drink under a thatched roof hut place. (Not at thatched roof prices.)

Road to Hana

The plan would hold. We didn't get out exactly on time, but we were to our checkpoint on the north side of the island only about 15 minutes late for our self-imposed 8 a.m. preferred time of arrival.

Our 55-mile drive nearly due west along the north coast, then down around to the south, would take us through some of the most dramatic landscapes one could hope to see -- lush jungle, green grass, white hay-like grass, countless switchbacks above steep cliffs, sea for miles, dramatic wave sets and a tourist trap called the Garden of Eden (here we were told, "Don't pet the ducks" ... Who would ever have to be told not to pet ducks?) -- from the comfort of a convertible.

It's probably best to refer to the pictures here, which are fantastic (even the ones Patty took), and only sort of suggest how the conventionally narrow roads on the front half of the drive give way to comically narrow "roads" on the back half -- 37 miles through what is essentially a glorified bike path with a 20 m.p.h. speed limit.

In all, the nearly 100-mile drive took us almost all day, stopping along the way few times to eat (in Hana, where the wrap was a straight B and salad was about the same), take a ton of pictures, check out a few beaches, avoid oncoming traffic and to grade all the points of interest in "Maui Revealed." Patty also drew blood trying to climb a red lava rock to take a picture. Merely a flesh wound. But not her last.

Home and low on energy, we ate cereal for dinner. Monday at the Four Seasons, Tuesday at Fred's, Wednesday cereal at home. Maybe on Thursday we'll just have water.

Will never forget Koki Beach (and not just because that's where Patty cut up her leg in search of some way to capture the heaviest crashing waves we had seen to date) or Hana, or the muddy ducks, but the ride was less a string of towns, beaches, checkpoints or mileposts and more an experience remembered in its entirety.

Plan for Thursday?
Vacation.

Hodgepodge in Hawaii, Day 2

About three hours later, one of us was awake again, ready to take on the first full slate in Hawaii.
A hodgepodge of day followed, but it was an outstanding one.

First, choosing left this time along the path, we took a walk along the beach, which meant one of us worked the Nikon pretty hard along the shore and one of us would sweat profusely for two hours. On the hunt for "a treat" (this is usually code for something at Starbucks), we wound up shopping for an hour in what suffices as the town of Wailea. Damage: two pairs of sunglasses (not matching), a shirt (me) and a fetching dress (Patty).

Shopping chores always seem to take longer than they should, possibly because I am cheap, but the items would help us blend in as tourists.

We'd been walking back and forth along the inviting beach for hours, but because I had been outdoors too long and was CERTAIN all sunblock had worn off, we had to return to the comfort of the condo A/C for lunch. Oh yes, at some point in the morning, we had driven up the coastline and made a "staples" purchase (also often code for finding a Starbucks) of cold cuts, mustard, bread, cereal bars and two boxes of cereal. Damage: $80. Welcome to Hawaii.

Around 1 o'clock, we made our first trip to the beach. With the sand fine as could be and the water a clearer blue/green under the direct sunlight, the afternoon did not disappoint. A few trips into the warm ocean and a few more naps, and we were ready to doll up (Patty) and find some dinner.

Jackpot.

Relatively inexpensive, lively Mexican place, with a view of the sun slipping into the ocean. Margaritas. Cervezas. Drink specials. Free chips and salsa. Leftovers. Thank you, Fred's Mexican.

On the ride home, we dropped the top on the car. Why wouldn't you, right?

With the sun setting at 6 p.m. and mornings starting 12 hours earlier, one finds it hard not to turn in early, which is what we did.

The morning plan is to drive the road to Hana.

Maui or Bust!

Left a chilly MSP, to which we were given a ride by Nelson, Kate, Cindy, mom and dad, after serendipitously seeing all but Cindy a second time inside the terminal, en route for Seattle.

Made it to Seattle, thanks to some napping, with enough energy to enjoy a three-hour layover -- eating (chowder/salad, fish and chips) in front of the main terminal's giant wall of windows, and shopping at a Patina lookalike. Wherever you are, you're near a Patina.

One more plane ride later, broken up by more napping, a movie of questionable plane-viewing taste (and certainly not on full screen mode), Forgetting Sarah Marshall, still more napping, and we touched down at the first of many am-I-pronouncing-this-right? Hawaiian destinations: Kaului.

As an aside, the nice thing about the Hawaiian language is that all of the vowels are sounded out. The downside? Sheer volume of vowels. Some words aren't so much words as winding labyrinths through which sounds must navigate. For instance: humuhumunukunuku'apua'a. Just pulled that up under the Yahoo! search "long hawaiian words."

Moving on ...

We met up with Neal, our chatty cabbie, who took us the 20-odd miles south along the coast and dropped us off at our home away from home: Condo #202 at Wailea Point Village. Door open ... jaw drop. Stunning location, great view, thankful vacationers. The Pacific looms, a wide expanse fills the long bay window, with West Maui anchoring the view to the north and the shoreline resorts lining the coastline to the immediate right.

Fly-in took place around 6 o'clock in the evening Hawaii time, and it was well past 7 by the time we were settled, meaning midnight in the Twin Cities, so our next decision -- where to eat -- was made without the benefit of clear heads.

We hit the walking trail just in front of the condo, took a right and, groggy and hungry, picked the nearest eatery -- a nicely appointed place with a view. The Four Seasons. This being the Four Seasons, we paid two arms and two legs, but we did tip the proper amount to our waiter from Wisconsin -- we overtipped Neal -- a small miracle considering the sticker price.

Lesson learned.

Still, it was delicious, veal/risotto on one side and chicken/polenta on the other.

Sometime near 2 a.m. body clock time, we went to bed.