The Long Way Home

I've moved!

2008-10-17T21:34:00.002-10:00

I'm moving again. I apologize.

I promise not to move again if I can help it.

Karaoke Diaries: The Cast

2008-10-16T15:59:00.018-10:00

This is probably more for my own reference than anyone else's. As I continue to write about Sunday nights at Crossword, I find myself sometimes forgetting which nickname I assigned to who. While identities will still not be revealed, here are a few random details about the people who make my Sunday nights worth drinki- er, living.

T: He's my boss. T is his actual nickname & he's one of 3 partners that own the bar, but the only one who actually works there. He's a caring, soft-hearted rock guitarist who can't enjoy the compressed sound of an mp3 & worships Gary Moore & Paul Rodgers. He drinks almost everything, even some of the shitty stuff. Once, at a Better Brands show, I described T's drinking preference as "liking the feel of claws raking down the inside of your throat." But he likes the good stuff too.

Keola: As himself. My dear music aficianado & fellow Taurus, Keola is a walking music & pop culture encyclopedia. I celebrate the days that I find I actually know something he doesn't. He's a well-known DJ at a well-known radio station, & sometimes I get text messages from him saying he's going to shoot himself in the foot if he has to play Mariah Carey one more time. Keola drinks Jack. Lots of it. When he dies, we need to get ahold of his liver. That shit is going to be delicious.

My sister. Also as herself. I'd say she's my sister, so don't fuck with her... only, all on her own she'd earn the warning not to fuck with her. If you ever meet her, you'll understand. My sis is a bad ass. Hotness has nothing to do with harmless.

Mele: My Karaoke Bitch. I've known him for hundreds & thousands of years, & I'd like to mention he's older than me but definitely less mature. KK has described his voice has having an unusually "fat" tone, & frankly Mele is one of my only friends who, every time he sings, makes me feel jealous. Yeah, I hate him. Hate him hate him hate him. The feeling's mutual. Mele drinks Stoli rocks (ew) but also appreciates various bourbon, scotch, & our beloved Corralejo (Anejo).

Mats: Another long time karaoke friend; I remember back when the only song he ever sang was "I Guess That's Why They Call It The Blues." Mats is a closet acoustic guitarist, collecting some rather expensive vintage items, & I'm still waiting for him to bust it out. Mats drinks Bud Light with a bucket of ice, & Grey Goose. Generally in a night he has 3 22oz BLs, 1 12oz BL, & perhaps 1 or 2 shots of Goose before he tabs out & stumbles out.

Jojo: Sweet & demure, Jojo has the voice of an angel. My favorite songs for her to sing are Mariah Carey's "Looking In" & Kelly Clarkson's "Because Of You." I wish I had a vibrato like that. I wish I had a gorgeous headtone like that. Jojo is generally reticent about singing; I don't know if it's just around me or if it's all the time. Jojo drinks Bud Light with a bucket of ice & shoots Jack. I know when to cut her off because she'll make the "Oh, fuck it all" face.

Huggyhuggy: Long time friend & fellow barfly, Huggyhuggy earned his nickname from other friends during that year we were having E every weekend. He doesn't sing that often, but is always there with his Bud Light (bucket ice) & friendly smile. He mostly hangs out at the Hut, but sometimes makes the foray to my bar.

Jiro: Huggyhuggy's BFF, the guy who taught me to sing Expose's "I'll Never Get Over You (Getting Over Me)" without my ever having to hear the original. Jiro used to sing a lot of Hawaiian & Boyz II Men, but now rocks out on Foo Fighters ("The Pretender") & various emo songs, although he vehemently criticizes the latter genre. Jiro once sat in to sing Foo Fighters' "Learn To Fly" at my gig at East Side Grill back in 2001, & sang harmony for me throughout. Jiro drinks Bud Select (gross) & Crown Reserve. Aw, too bad, we don't carry Crown Reserve.

Mr. A: Another Hut regular who sometimes defects, Mr. A can sing the Freddy Mercury part of "Under Pressure" while I sing the David Bowie part. He specializes in The Cult, Journey, & other high vocal rock, although sometimes his choices of warm-up are, imo, a little overly ambitious. He drinks Bud Light or Jack & coke.

The Saucy Pirate Boys: Mainly 2 cute, friendly, & single young guys who liberally bare themselves for me when I need a pick-me-up at work. They've come into the bar dressed as pirates & bared themselves on non-Halloween days, earning an eternal welcome Sunday nights. They sing mostly screaming songs that hurt a lot of the other regulars' ears. They drink Newcastle, Orion, Jack, & Jager. Mele can't stand them. But I don't care. They bare themselves.

Pacman: One of my best friends, Pacman is an infrequent visitor but makes the most of it when he does show. We sing "Tribute" together, & he can do a great "Love Rears It's Ugly Head." Pacman drinks a variety of things, Irish Carbombs not being the least of them.

Ari: Another infrequent but much beloved visitor. Ari can sing Amy Winehouse & Norah Jones beautifully. I love singing harmony for her because of her perfect pitch & strong, mellow voice. Her boyfriend is a studio guitarist & avid fisherman, part of my ex-husband's clique (but I adore him). Ari drinks Newcastle.

Jukebox Hero: Former singer for Loverboy (but no, not Mike Reno) & frontman of a busy local rock band, JH earned his nickname by flawless & inspiring performances of Foreigner, but my favorite song for him to sing is Jay & The Americans' "Cara Mia." JH drinks Miller Lite & Cuervo Gold, & is probably one of the funniest guys I know. Thing is, most of his stories are true.

Khorn: Named for his WoW character, Khorn was a regular at King Street Cafe who attracted my attention by his flawless renditions of Matchbox 20. We ended up actually talking after my rendition of Tool. Since then we've been great friends & leveling buddies, & shared a love for Duran Duran, Hall & Oates, Matchbox 20 (especially "Last Beautiful Girl"), & Def Leppard.

Cass: Mele's underclassmen from high school, embittered by hearing his last name shouted all the time, & former leader of our WoW guild. He insists "Cass" is a masculine name. Cass has a mellow, Phil Collinsish voice & can do John mayer quite nicely. He's definitely a whiner & a crybaby, but Mele puts him to shame & is more fun to pick on. Cass drinks Michelob Ultra (girl beer) & Jack.

KK: High tenor male diva who calls me regularly for music nerd discussion. KK has given me deep insights into the workings of my voice & helped me navigate in my efforts to improve. We also enjoy discussing Mele when he's not there. I talk to KK on the phone probably every day, sometimes 3-4 times. He's a rare spawn at the bar but when he does show Mats enjoys his "25 or 6 to 4" & I get to sing "I'd Do Anything For Love" with him. He also does the Tommy Shaw part of "High Enough" with Mele quite well. KK drinks diet coke - lots of it - & the occasional Level or Dolgoruki pres with a splash of Apple Pucker. My recipe, tyvm.

Miss J: The siren. Miss J has racked up the highest amount of guys aside-ing to me, "She's hot" & has literally been surrounded by men vying for her attention. With our similar taste in music (Belly, Tori Amos, Sarah McLachlan, KT Tunstall) we share a lot of common songs but have enough of a repertoire to never run out. Miss J drinks Level rocks with a Green Tea back, although for awhile she drank Grey Goose Poire.

ECW: My ex-co-worker. I hated him when I worked with him, but he seems to be a much nicer person away from work. He plays soccer & once came into the bar wearing tear-off pants (snaps all the way down the sides) with only a couple of the snaps on. Being that I am a leg woman & he plays soccer, I appreciate this kind of casualness. I wish he would wear those pants every single time I see him. He drinks a variety of beers, but mostly Orion in our bar.

Nan: Former professional singer, Nan specializes in Dusty Springfield's "Son of A Preacher Man" & Dido's "Thank You." She has a lilting, feminine voice & loves the yodeling, as in Leona Lewis' "Bleeding Love." Since hooking up with another regular, JJ, Nan hasn't been visiting as often, & all I can say is, "Get some for me!" Nan drinks Michelob Ultra.

Nigel: Bass player & singer of a famous local rock band, this is the guy who wouldn't stop grabbing my sister's ass until she emptied a pitcher of iced water on him. Outspoken about the evils of females who use their wiles to cause him & his friends to pursue them, then harrass & most definitely slander if rejected, Nigel is probably one of the biggest bitches I know & I don't really have anything to do with him or his friends any more.

Misogynist: A decent singer with great taste in music with a cute, nice girlfriend that he treats, imo, like crap. She'd tag along when he came to join his friends at the bar & if there was only one extra seat, he'd take it & she'd have to sit at another table by herself, yet I'd heard reports of his jealousy when anyone spoke to her. So of course I made it a point to chat with her. Misogynist sings Elvis Costello - always a plus - & has taken shots at XTC's "Mayor of Simpleton." Misogynist drinks ales & stouts like Smithwicks or Guinness.

Carmen: My friend & former roommate. Carmen is a veteran CS player who sometimes can be persuaded to sing "Hopelessly Devoted To You," but most of the time is just there to drink Jack --- lots of it --- with a coke back.

The Beatles Guy: Long time professional guitarist & full-time accountant, TBG is one of the most animated, music loving alcoholics to grace my bar. He's a good friend & occasional bandmate of T's, & has a lot of musical opinions, many of which don't stink. TBG drinks a variety of things, including the better tequilas (Corralejo, Cazadores), various tea-type cocktails (Long Island, AMF, etc), Hendricks martinis, & all kinds of beers.

Ezra: Lead guitarist of a famous local rock/alternative band, Ezra is one of the most good-natured musicians I've ever met. He sings well & is always in a good mood. Ezra drinks Coors Light & a variety of liquors, including good tequila (Patron, Corralejo, Cazadores), Hendricks martinis, & Southern Comfort with lime.

KDJ: Our friendly neighborhood karaoke DJ. He makes it into work most nights to run the karaoke, & does a great "Heavy Metal." KDJ is one of my closest friends. He drinks Coke or Pepsi. Sometimes he gets high from too much sugar.

JJ: Formerly a frequent flyer, JJ has a soft, soothing voice & immaculate pitch. He loves singing harmony & specializes in 70s tunes. He drinks Bud & Patron, & is dating Nan.

The Tone Deaf Regulars: A group of happy, friendly & drunk people whose group includes musicians from a local rock band apparently mostly known for how bad they suck. It seems that every member of this group is tone deaf or doesn't sing, & when the former do sing, customers have gotten up & closed their tabs so they could leave. These people are below average tippers (straight 15%) & hell on the ears, but their niceness makes them tolerable. Still, it's a happier night when they are at some other bar. The TDRs drink shochu cocktails, Bud Light, Guinness, & Grey Goose most nights.

Ms. Carrot Top: A tall, skeletal redhead who appeared once in the 11-2 entry & was 86'd. Hopefully we won't hear from her ever again, but just in case we do, that's her.

R&B Guy: A guy I gave my number to. Also, he sings R&B. Mele can't stand him. After his 2nd visit to the bar I realized that I couldn't either.

80s Guy: Mild mannered & friendly, this F&B guy comes in to sing Warrant, Poison, Boston, & other hair bands. Once we had a bad smell in the bar & I had customers hold open the doors on both sides until it aired out. When I asided to 80s guy why we were doing it, he immediately threw his hand up in the air & announced to the room that he had taken a crap in the mens room, & apologized. Memorable. He drinks Bud Light with a glass & occasionally shoots Black Label.

The Crazy Sisters: Two of my girlfriends from high school, who were at least as delinquent as me &, unlike me, have great tans to show for it. They exhibit a little Bar Tourist behavior - getting up & dancing for Modern English, acting out songs they are singing - but generally their presence is accompanied by me being sloshed (how does that work?), & so I don't mind. They drink Coors Light, tequila, vodka, anything else I pour, & lots of water.

The Dokken Guy: He sings "Alone Again" pretty well, although he uses an affected placement that hurts T's ear. I don't actually notice it. I have spoken to him once about his volume; I told him that when he hits certain notes it's a little overpowering, so if he could back up off the mic a little it would be great. He was a great sport about it. He drinks Bud Light.

Chronic: My dear friend & guildmaster, who can sing Cartman like no other. He drinks Coors Light & 151, although he prefers the Lemon Hart 151 if we have it.

P Man: Tall, dark & handsome, P Man is a friend of the owners & generally of everyone he comes into contact with. He's worn the Kikaida suit. I've proposed to him at least once. He drinks coke & Red Bull.

Kid: One of the K Hut alcoholics who doesn't sing but cheers singers on, if they are singing rock. He is my favorite person to have around when I am singing Pat Benatar or Sabbath. He is also my favorite person to have around when I want to get shitfaced, because he has no fear. Kid drinks Budweiser & Jack.

Tappy: Khorn's close friend & former co-worker who sings the Amy Lee part of the Korn duet version of "Freak On A Leash." She doesn't get out much, but when she does she's one of the nicest people you can drink with. Tappy drinks Bud Light, & I wish she would sing more.

Spazz: Drummer with a very enjoyable originals band (yes, I've gone to see them, & enjoyed them). I get the impression that he only started singing karaoke within the last few months, & he's still finding his repertoire range. He does Pink Floyd's "Hey You" quite well. He drinks Jager Bombs, chilled Comfort with lime, Coke, & is a good sport about the crap I give him for drinking Raspberry Tea.

EME: EME loves the classic rock, especially the SRV. His nickname is from a vocal similarity he shares with a popular actor & that's all I'm going to say about that. He drinks Miller Lite, red wine, & various teas & juices for the nights he doesn't want alcohol.

Boobilicious & Her Guy Friend: A very pleasant, good-looking couple that came in on 3-29, drank a lot of Orion & Jager, sang a lot of songs quite decently, & got along with everyone. Total potential regulars. I'm so spoilt.

My Favorite 24-yr-old: Young, dashing, &, well, young, MF24 is a busy musician (weapon of choice, bass) who does a rather awesome She Wants Revenge. Among my favorite songs for him to sing are Dave Matthews Band's "Crush," The White Stripes' "Seven Nation Army," & Death Cab For Cutie's "I Will Follow You Into The Dark." MF24 drinks a variety of things: Orion, Guinness, Jager, & most recently my beloved Corralejo.

Blonde1 & Blonde2: Two lovely ladies, both good singers, whose acquaintence I first made on 4/19.2009. Friends of T's tone deaf partner, they frightened me by being bouncy & caucasian... but turned out to be quite pleasant & likeable. They both drank Level & soda all night. Very good taste in vodka, there.

last updated 4/20/2009.

Obake Story: Rocks Kitchen

2008-10-07T03:05:00.000-10:00

This one isn't as scary; it's actually kind of boring except for the fact that it's the most solid sighting I've ever had. Still, Keith shouldn't read this at night. After all, he was a regular here. See also the Scary Stuff Disclaimer.

Centuries ago I worked in a popular sports/karaoke bar called On The Rocks, which was located in a midpriced Waikiki hotel. Like many hotels, this one had had its share of jumpers & hotel room suicides (1. You don't have to pay the room service tab. 2. The maids will clean up the mess.). Our large, well-lit kitchen was quite busy producing huge piles of nachos or sizzling platter steaks with mushrooms & onions (which we served only after circling the room once, provoking subsequent steak orders) & had only 2 doors: the back door leading to the loading dock, which was locked from the inside, & the huge swinging doors which led into the loud, busy customer area. Within the kitchen were our walk-in fridge & freezer, each about 10' x 6'.

There had been some spooky stories about the kitchen from before I started working there but I hadn't paid attention. During my time there, one of our cooks took to sitting outside in the bar whenever he wasn't cooking. When I asked him why he said he refused to be in the kitchen alone unless he had to, because he sensed a presence in there & pots had flown off shelves from across the room. I thought that was pretty cool. Later one of my co-workers mentioned that 3 of them had been talking story in the kitchen when they heard someone pounding on the door from the inside of the walk-in fridge. They had immediately opened the door thinking someone had gotten locked in there, but it was empty. Again, coolness.

I worked nightly untl 4am. At 2am I would start grabbing cases of beer from the walk-in & begin my restocking (if I waited until 4 I would be there forever). One night as I was in the walk-in making a pile of beer cases, I looked up to see male figure, dressed in black, strolling right past the door. The fluorescent lights in the kitchen were very bright, & I was completely sober. The dude in black was as clear as a live person; no smoke or blurriness or music or anything.

Immediately I knew I'd seen something paranormal. The kitchen had closed at 1 & the back door had been locked since then. I'd been in & out of this kitchen to grab ice & knew it was empty. The music & noise from the bar area would have loudly & clearly announced even a fractional opening of the swinging doors.

So, that was a ghost.

"Cool," I said to myself, & I went back to my stocking.

Musubi, oh my.

2008-10-03T16:59:00.001-10:00

I'm gonna have to visit this place.

Maybe I'm PMSing.

2008-09-30T03:31:00.002-10:00

Poor AT&T Universal Card. But seriously. Fix your damn site.

Tuesday, September 30, 2008

Dear Universal Card Customer Service,

Every month I pay your company via your website, but this month my login information was rejected as “incorrect.” The truth was that you were forcing everyone to re-register, but your misleading error message wasted several minutes of my time & a significant amount of my patience while I tried to figure out a nonexistent login mistake.

When I finally discovered that I needed to re-register, I attempted it. I was not only asked for the security code on my credit card which I cut up several months ago (you guys bumped up my rates for a single, lonely late payment in I don’t know how many years of timeliness), but also a “security word.” Another misleading turn of phrase, which had me utterly confused, thinking it was one of the answers to the multiple “security questions” I had set up when I first registered at your site: my favorite song, my pet’s name, my 1^st grade teacher’s last name, etc. When in actuality it was the single most common, traditional word used for every banking or credit institution; so common that it’s not even called anything --- they just ask “mother’s maiden name please.”

More time & patience wasted. Why do you want to do this to your customers? How does wasting our time benefit your business?

When I got your CSR on the phone I was asked for a “password,” which, in utter consistency with your company’s communication skills so far, actually was the same as the “security word.” More wasted time while I insisted I did not know of any “password,” & he then explained that it was my mother’s maiden name, & then had to explain that it was called different things depending on where you were. I was a total bitch & probably ruined at least a few minutes of his day. But in the end I apologized because I realized that this was not really his fault. It’s the fault of whatever dickhead in your company that set up the various communications on your website & at your phone center. Whoever he or she or they are either need to finish up whatever ESL courses he or she or they have left to complete, or go work for the circus where they have clowns who are actually hired to play jokes on people.

Enclosed is my payment for this month. Your poor, unfortunate CSR & demonstrably powerless Tech Support guy are sending me a new card, with which I will re-register at your website before cutting it up again.

I am writing to let your know that you are blocking your customers’ attempts to give you money. Frankly I think you should refund me the postage. Please give up the “mystery & intrigue” approach; all I wanted to do today was pay you.

Dead-Fast

2008-09-22T13:09:00.001-10:00

This stuff works. That's all I have to say.

Crossword With A Pen.

2008-09-10T14:52:00.004-10:00

There's Judy Garland taking Buddha by the hand
And then these 7 little men get up to dance
They say Confucius does his crossword with a pen...

When Blogchex unceremoniously collapsed, I began writing The Long Way Home again here on Blogger, but my dear friend & fellow music geek O-Dogg made himself a nest at Wordpress.

And it ate at me.

I wanted a blog at Wordpress too.

So, secretly, I started writing there. I didn't even tell O-Dogg at first. I didn't tell anyone. I just wanted to see if I liked it, see if I had other things to write about that I didn't write about here at Blogger. I made the focus music, & I started writing. I had some random visitors who cheered me on. I found that I suddenly had blog diarrhea when it came to music.

When another music geek friend Keith began publishing his own blog I got this idea. I mean, I know Keith has virtual novels to write about music; we conduct music nerd discussion probably 50 times a month. And Crossword With A Pen became a group blog. There are 5 of us, although I'm currently the only one who's got the runs.

Anyway, I told Lara once she got her bio up there I'd actually tell people about it. So here it is.

Crossword With A Pen.

Steak.

2008-09-05T01:28:00.018-10:00

Since my regular Beef Bowl place at Palama Market closed down, I've been on the look out for other alternatives to McDonalds. Even though they've got the McRib this month. According to the Blood Type Diet, potato is no good for us Type Os, so I've got to get some distance from those evil french fries.

It was a sojourn to Foodland for my grandmother's ice cream (I'm still lactose intolerant.) that caused me to park in the Foodland parking lot, get out of my car, & then walk directly into a charcoal, spice, & beef-flavored smoke.

It's like Huli Huli Chicken. Only better; it's steak.

I wasn't hugely impressed with the steak plates we used to eat in the airport area, although it was still pretty good. However, immersion in steak-enhanced smoke is a great persuader. And, it was about time for lunch anyway.

Those steaks looked about as good as they smelled. I don't get to hibachi very often, & I'd have to say that the smell of grilling steaks is one of the most festive, happy smells I can think of.

Could these guys do rare? Absolutely they could, by request. Did I remember to arrange for the rare steak? No, I forgot. The smell was just too enticing. I can't think when I'm salivating. Also, the ice cream was melting.

Not only were these boys cooking up the food I was brought up on (this & spaghetti; it's all I can remember), but they were also frying up another favorite food: shrimp!

(Shrimp is the fruit of the sea. You can barbecue it, boil it, broil it, bake it, saute it. Shrimp-kabobs, shrimp creole, shrimp gumbo. Pan fried, deep fried, stir-fried. There's pineapple shrimp, lemon shrimp, coconut shrimp, pepper shrimp, shrimp soup, shrimp stew, shrimp salad, shrimp and potatoes, shrimp burger, shrimp sandwich.)

Turns out these guys are a completely different company from the other steak plate stands I saw at other supermarkets. Apparently all the money changing was done inside Foodland, so I went inside to order my lunch as well as interrogate the friendly guy at the Steak Table.

Ono Hawaiian Steaks has stands at various Foodlands on various days, from 10am-6pm. Their schedule is kinda crazy:

Tuesday: Beretania
Wednesday: Mililani
Thursday: Market City & Koko Marina
Friday: Ewa Beach

A steak plate, or steak & shrimp plate, is $6.50 & comes with an ice cold can of soda (Diet Coke, my elixir of life.). You can also buy a 1 lb steak by itself.

Surf & Turf for me, please.

Steak & shrimp plate obtained, I hurried outside to enjoy the sunshine & devour my delicious-smelling food. There was a table of condiments including Tabasco shoyu, but I was starving at this point. Who cared about the ice cream. At first glance I remembered I had forgotten to request my steak rare, but quite frankly the slices of beef looked great... medium.

I can't remember the last time I ate steak medium. I think it was at Morton's, & I had ordered rare. You'd think at Morton's you could get rare.

Anyway.

Under the shade of the Foodland parking lot trees, with the scent of charcoal still on the air, I sat down on a bench with my steak & shrimp & an ice-dripping can of Diet Coke.

I've been lucking out like a madwoman lately. This was awesome steak, & believe you me, I am a steakologist. It was soft, aromatic, with just enough fat. The lack of blood wasn't an issue. I could see that the beef had been heartily seasoned, but to be honest, I couldn't identify the seasoning exactly.

But it was very, very good. I'd like to learn this seasoning mix. No, they wouldn't tell me.

I highly recommend this place. The tough part is being in the right parking lot at the right time.

See you guys at Beretania Foodland on Tuesday.

I got the ice cream home ok, btw.

Chie!

2008-08-31T14:13:00.004-10:00

Remember this? That was in May.

This is from August.

Jack & Chie are doing well; this month we had some fleas & Chie had tapeworms, but that's been handled. Not too bad. I also don't know what happened to the font option on this editor but whatever.

I continue to hate on Yelp.

2008-08-24T16:35:00.008-10:00

Recently I got an earful from a friend who felt I was unwise to post this. Believe it or not, it actually wasn't Darren. But while my friend had good points, my beef with Yelp remains.

Nothing further has resulted from Yelp's enabling, but the very principle that this company is based on just bothers me.

Recently I joined Yelp Sucks, which is basically a bunch of business owners & employees who want to vent about how Yelp wronged them. After reading various entries, I realized that here was a bunch of people who basically wouldn't even be here if their accounts on Yelp hadn't been deleted for one reason or another. "Please take me back, Yelp; please let me post on your site," was what the site topics (Yanked Account, Deleted Reviews) seemed to say.

And here I thought I was going to meet other people who want to destroy Yelp.

So much for that.

Here's my beef:

1. No accountability=chickenshit free-for-all. Yelp! is a website where people can create an account & then write reviews about various businesses. They are identified by their first name & last initial, which means basically nothing accountability-wise.

In the case of Mary M, one of these reviewers was able to post criticism of me, identifying me by name, in a review for the bar I work in, which made obvious where I worked. Luckily for me, Mary was so unique that I immediately knew who she was from reading her "review," & frankly, the bad press was desirable to me.

I immediately told Mary I knew who she was. Faced with the unexpected accountability, Mary cordially contacted me & apologized, editing out her bad review. To be honest, I wanted her review to remain the way it was, but the fact of the matter is if Yelp! users actually had to own up to whatever they said, they might not be saying it.

I don't support the Enabling Of Chickenshitness. That's what Yelp! does.

2. Momma's skirts for the attackers, prohibition of defense from the victims. In spite of reviews which not only publicly identify employees & (obviously) their location, defense responses are not allowed. My post responding to Mary was removed for "personal attack" (heh, irony).

When I responded, I knew that any reader would know who I was & could even show up at the bar when I worked to harrass me if so desired. I have no problem with accountability, & I have no problem with being accused of "personal attack." I do have a problem with an anonymous user being protected while attacking me. That's just --- you know --- not fair.

I should be allowed to hit back.

3. How Yelp! makes money. This is what really causes me anger. After providing the common man (or stalker or fat chick, whatever) with a weapon to attack businesses with, with the other hand Yelp! offers the attack victims defense tools... for a price.

It turns out that Yelp! does allow businesses to respond publicly to these kinds of attacks... if businesses pay them. For $150/month, businesses can post responses to reviews. In the comments at this article, a business owner said that Yelp! customer service offered him the ability to remove one bad review every 6 months... for $350/month.

No doubt I'm going to get another earful for posting this, but it's one of the prices of speaking one's mind. While there are those who dislike me for it, you can't say it's not fair. There's my picture there on the right. It was taken where I work & where you'll be able to find me tonight should you care to discuss anything with me.

You can also anonymously post your grievances with anything I've said in the comments below. Personal attacks are more than welcome.

You Hungry?

2008-08-16T22:45:00.041-10:00

The mention of You Hungry brings up tasty visions of fresh corned beef & cabbage, succulent kalua pig, & steaming shoyu chicken, all in mom-style portions with big scoops of rice. I also recall it being on the corner of Atkinson & Kapiolani, where we'd wait patiently for a parking stall because the reward would be worth it.

You Hungry has since continued the tradition of good, real food under the new ownership of Joel Cabais (son of Jay Cabais, Honolulu steak plate pioneer), his brother Donovan, & cousin Jason of Ono Hawaiian Steak. Recently You Hungry went to the streets, winning Honolulu Magazine's Best Lunch Wagon for 2008. With the help of David Hayashi, they are now implementing plans for world domination.

Seriously. You gotta try their sauces.

When my brother told me he was taking me to lunch at a lunchwagon, I was a little skeptical. My experience with lunchwagons is pretty noobish. I remember visiting one by the boats near Ala Moana Beach Park perhaps 13 years ago, a lunchwagon outside Queens Physicians Office Building with my dad & I think I've gone to Tsukenjo's once. I'm a drive thru girl when it comes to lunch, mostly due to laziness.

Still, I trust my brother.

Around 12:30 (lunchtime) we found street parking on South Street practically in front of our lunch destination, in front of which there was already a line of 5-6 people, & a few others who had already ordered, or were perhaps just bathing in the enticing smell of hot food.

Lunchwagon menu boards intimidate me. I always think I want something, & then at the last minute I decide I want something else, but I'm not entirely sold on that something else & I can't really be 100% sure that's what I actually want, but I'm already at the front of the line & everyone is looking at me expectantly. So then I order what I'd decided on initially that I wanted to change my mind about. And then after I pay I figure out what it was that I actually wanted to order. But it's too late.

Maybe that's why I go to drive thrus. Anyway.

There were already a number of items already sold out on the lunchwagon menu board. Naturally, I immediately found something I'd like to eat amongst the sold out stuff (fresh corned beef!!).

We were moving ahead in line pretty fast & I had to make a decision.

My brother informed me he was going to order the Fried Ahi Poke, reassuring me he wouldn't be able to finish the whole thing.

And so there I was, & there was only one person left in front of us in line. My brother had already decided what he was going to order, but I still didn't know.

I considered the Roast Pork with gravy, but thought that might be too flagrantly unhealthy --- I'd have to come back here alone to order that. The Garlic Chicken sounded tempting, but I wasn't in a real chicken mood, & Crab Stuffed Salmon felt a little too adventurous.

I looked again, forlornly, at the bottom of the menu board where "Fresh Corned Beef w/ Cabbage" sported a little note saying "OUT." I thought of a few reasons why I didn't need to have Corned Beef for lunch today.

And then we were at the front of the line & the guy in the lunchwagon was looking at me.

My brother had ordered his Fried Ahi Poke, & was looking at me.

My mind went completely blank. I didn't know what I felt like eating. Everything sounded good. They were out of fresh corned beef. Ooh, Pork Adobo.

"I'll have the Hamburger Steak please," I said. "All rice. Brown rice. Thank you." Sheesh, I'm such a dork. I didn't even let him tell me I could have toss, but if I'd been a lunchwagon connoisseur I'd have known that tossed greens is a common plate lunch option.

Well, I handled that well.

Our plates came & we set up on the picnic table next to the wagon.

My brother had gotten me a small sample of You Hungry's secret recipe Sweet Wasabi sauce. Whoa.

I've had wasabi/mayo dressings that went well on burgers & wasabi/miso dips that added color to seafood, but this sauce was pure happiness just by itself. As I've said in other blogs, I'm not the huge sauce person; I like my food plain with minimal seasoning.

But this sauce tasted winz just on the tip of my finger. I was too busy enjoying the bright, expansive flavors to even try to deconstruct what I was tasting.

You could put this stuff on anything. Ok, maybe not ice cream. Worth a try anyway, though. It was good.

My brother's Fried Ahi Poke looked & smelled so good that I immediately felt like a loser. The chunks of ahi were soft & perfectly cooked, seasoned with some enchanting citrus flavor. If only I could order this by the bucket & take it to the bar!

Obviously my brother had been here before!

Resignedly I turned to my panic-ordered hamburger steak.

As I lifted the condensation-drenched lid I was greeted with the smell of rich, homemade brown gravy & beef. My hamburger steak was tender, meaty, & swimming in delicious gravy. I'm proud to say that I didn't make it through the rice. But that hamburger steak disappeared in its entirety.

That was really good. I made a good choice after all.

Either that, or there are no bad choices.

Monday thru Friday, 10am-1:30pm
Two locations: South & Halekauila, Alakea & Beretania.

Obake Story: Benizuru/Kagami's

2008-08-12T14:52:00.001-10:00

Hey, this is going to be a firsthand ghost story so if it's late at night & you get spooked easily, save it for tomorrow. I'm talking to you, Keith. See also the Scary Stuff Disclaimer.

In 2002 my then-husband (Dean) & I opened a small bar in Kaimuki called Pub Kagami. This was the same spot which Dean & I had frequented for years before we became the new owners; back then it was Benizuru, run by husband & wife team Derek & Rika. I had commented to Dean how nice it would be to have a bar just like this one, & when a few years later Derek & Rika moved out, we jumped at the chance to move in. We (well, Dean) spent 5 months remodeling the entire interior, opening in March 2002 with great hopes & a bit of exhaustion.

I was there every day, the happy bar owner, as early as 2pm, & often while I sat in the bar doing paperwork late afternoons I would see a young man with brown hair standing in a certain spot of the bar, just in front of the hallway leading to the restrooms. He simply stood there; he never looked at me or moved, although he would be gone once I blinked.

He didn't bother me, so I never thought much of it.

In 2003 Dean & I split up, amicably, & I left my marriage & my bar, taking only the Playstation with me (I had just bought Qbert). I did come back, after a year, to help out once a week, & that was when Dean told me about the Glass O' Beer tradition. Apparently the bar had a paranormal visitor who could make the tvs & speakers go crazy, who, according to the janitor, made regular rounds to the other businesses in the building. As had been suggested to him, Dean would pour a glass of beer & set it in the corner of the bar, & amazingly (it had been witnessed by others as well), that seemed to calm the electronics down.

I was skeptical, not because I don't believe in ghosts, but mainly because I don't believe in people. But I humored the new bar tradition. I ended up leaving again, but when I came back in 2006 to help the new owners who had bought the bar from Dean out, I was informed that the Glass O' Beer was still observed, although sporadically.

Although I never saw my young man of the afternoons (my shift started at 8; that might be why), I did see shadows in the bar that appeared to be more than ocular spectres in a dark room, mostly in the area of the dartboards, which were a few feet from my young man's spot. I never bothered with them much until one night I had 3 sightings, which I thought unusual, & when I asked my boss if he had set out the Glass O' Beer recently he didn't know. I checked & found it moldy. I poured a new one.

However, the spirit(s) seemed to only get bolder. In the bar one night playing megatouch I was tapped, rather briskly, twice. Both times I turned around to see that no one in the bar was anywhere near me. I found that annoying. Even more annoying was hearing my name shouted on busy nights, & having to stop whatever I was doing to scan the faces in the room for whoever was trying to get my attention.

One night in the kitchen I was startled by a large, dark-skinned man who stood by the entrance glaring at me. I went back to washing dishes, & looked up to see him again. And then again. While ghosts of themselves don't bother me a whole lot, the glaring did. A couple of customers glanced through the kitchen door at me when I said "Dammit!" the 3rd time. I finally hissed to the empty air, "Stop it!!" & marched out of the kitchen. I never saw him again.

My sister mentioned to me that she had funny feelings, like she was being watched, in the women's restroom. My friend Joy also had a minor scary moment when the restroom lights went off & wouldn't go back on for her. When I went to investigate they turned right on. Dancing Frog action.

I ran into Derek & Rika at Sorabol one night. I didn't want to sound like a neurotic little girl but I had to ask them if they had ever had any obakes in the bar.

"Oh yeah," Rika immediately said. She looked at Derek. "Remember? The young man." She also mentioned an old man who frequented the main seating area (which would have been re-modeled as our dartboard area) & a big man with "scary eyes." I told her about the shoulder tapping & she said that female customers had reported that to them during Benizuru's reign. Apparently the male ghosts in the bar enjoyed having women around. Made sense.

Last year the 808Ghosts team came by to see if they could find anything to document; recording-wise it was rather fruitless but their occult specialist/psychic had a lot of observations, including a confirmation of a presence in the women's restroom. I ended up joining their team, although since deleting my MySpace I've been out of the loop. And... I just checked out the new site; looks like I'm off the team. Meh, easy come easy go. =)

Since then it's been pretty quiet except for a few incidents that are probably coincidences. Maybe the obakes didn't like being outed. The building is still active, though... a couple of months ago I saw mounds of rock salt in the doorway of one of the other businesses.

Try beer, guys.

The Sitemeter Internet Explorer Blogger Crash!!

2008-08-02T01:14:00.004-10:00

Today I attempted to visit this blog so that I could then jump to the various reads in my blogroll since, like any intelligent person, I use my blog's blogroll to archive links instead of my Favorites or Bookmarks. Yeah, shut up.

But then I couldn't; Internet Explorer shut me down every time I tried. A quick visit to Blogger's Help Group revealed the issue: if you employ Sitemeter at Blogger you will not be able to view your blog via Internet Explorer. Neither will anyone else.

Sitemeter's about to launch a multi-server upgrade & so that's probably why it's all glitchy. Whatever. Anyway.

Most support forums you visit will immediately advise you to avail yourself of their SEARCH feature to find relevant topics to help yourself with. It's kind of like reminding your incontinent grandmother to use the restroom before getting into the car for the cross-country road trip. Keeping all relevant discussion about a specific issue in the same thread is actually pretty important to the effectiveness of a support section. As was demonstrated by the dozens of threads --- sometimes up to 5 in a row --- at Blogger's Help Group (in fact, in 3 different sections of the Help Group), all about the same thing.

I was pretty impressed with the misuse of question marks: HOW did you remove it...SITEMETER or Blogger won't let me on..always get the IE message???? YIKES.... Deby Were people really this panicked? And how many sentences did Deby connect together with the little dots? Her username is "yesipray." Well, I guess He doesn't mind her grammar so who cares.

The other thing I noticed is that a lot of bloggers can't spell. One blogger wrote:
I to am having the same problem, I thought someone hacked my site through comments... so it definatly is a blogspot issue?

Yikes. I wanna go check out this guy's blog!! I bet it has all kinds of cool information about clubs & stuff.

Since I checked the Blogger Help Group this afternoon the piles & piles of threads about the same issue have grown into dozens of pages. It's amazing that people don't see the blue lines saying "Internet Explorer Can't Open My Blog" "Cannot Get To My Blogs" "Internet Explorer Cannot Open The Internet Site" while they are scrolling down to the Post Your Question button at the bottom of the page. How can they miss all this?

My only solace is that I did see a lot of posts in which there were no spelling or grammatical errors. There were actually a lot of literate people there on Blogger. That means there are actually a lot of literate people out there in the world.

But not enough, probably.

Incidentally, I removed Sitemeter from my page & now it's all good.

The end.

Scary Stuff: The Disclaimer

2008-07-28T16:26:00.005-10:00

Over the next few months I'm going to start posting a series of firsthand obake stories, maybe a few secondhand ones. Only some of them are actually scary, but the label will be "Scary Stuff."

From the hovering purplish thing in my room when I was 4 & the "thing" in the neighbor's mango tree when I was 7 to the voices calling my name in 2008 I've never really taken these things that seriously (Well, I might take these voices seriously because it's screwing up my sleep; anyone know any good exorcists?). They made interesting stories, & that's all these will be: interesting stories.

Recently a friend & I sat down & traded ghost stories, & I found that I had difficulty remembering some details that had never eluded me before. Now, due to various aspects of my past, I acknowledge large chunks of my life have been sucked into the void of senility (I'd list them but I can't remember their existence, much less their names.). Let's not let this happen to the fun stories!

Since childhood I believed in ghosts. My imaginary friend, Hermaine (pronouced Herman) was a ghost, & he was great company. I couldn't tell you what he looked like, but my grandmother's favorite story is how I made her move because she was "sitting on Hermaine."

So I started life out with good experiences.

I also believe that there are a lot of coincidences. And on top of that I acknowledge that I probably can't differentiate the 2 accurately 100% of the time.

These are just stories. What's cool is that they actually happened to me, or to the person who related them to me. I'm just writing them down because, since Alzheimers runs in my family, I should probably write them down somewhere.

Lions & Tigers

2008-07-23T21:14:00.001-10:00

Holy crap.

I love my job.

2008-07-20T14:59:00.000-10:00

I already love my job, but some days I really love my job.

A quote from House MD

2008-07-12T02:35:00.002-10:00

"Why would you feel sorry for someone who gets to opt out of the inane courteous formalities which are utterly meaningless, insincere & therefore degrading?

"Imagine how liberating it would be to live a life free of all mind-numbing social niceties."

Season 3, Episode 4

The Month Of Stupidity?

2008-07-01T15:19:00.005-10:00

Is it the prologue to The Marching Morons?

The Drive Thru at McDonalds. The total is $10.68, my mom hands the cashier a twenty but a second later finds she has the 68 cents. The cashier looks at her sadly & says, "But I already rang it in." My mom interrupts my "So do some math" retort with, "Kids these days aren't taught how to think." And she's a teacher, so I guess she would know.

Yelp.com. My name & where I work gets broadcast on some website for idiots with opinions by some fat chick whose only ID is her username & when I respond to defend myself Yelp Customer Support deletes my post & bans my account citing "personal attack." Two of my friends later post benign, positive comments in support & are deleted & banned as well, for "fraud," we think because they both posted from the same computer.

Representative Ted Poe. I receive an email entitled "A MUST WATCH!!! Wow...what an eye opener!" which turns out to be nothing but proof that you don't have to be smart or even have smart researchers to be a politician in Texas. This moron starts by grossly exaggerating a practically nonexistent health risk & ends by accusing China of conspiracy against the US via light bulbs. But what's even more stupid than this is that people believe this crap & then forward it to others. As soon as this guy started talking he sounded just what I imagined an idiot would sound like. Don't tell me no one else heard that.

One of our stupid patients. This girl won't pay her bill because even though she's got a deductible, she insists that if we just "keep on sending in claims" the insurance company will eventually pay it. And then I had the audacity to explain to her what a "deductible" means --- as if she were stupid or something! This is the girl that a few years ago called to complain about her bill... except that she had opened her mother's mail & had apparently been unable to read the name printed at the top of the bill or on the front of the envelope.

It seems to me sometimes that I live in a little cocoon of naivete, thinking stupidity is the anomaly & that "normal" people are at least of "normal" intelligence, but maybe my standards are too high. I left one of my quite lucrative jobs in 2004 solely because I couldn't handle regular exposure to stupidity there, yet the oddball at that place was me.

But is the world actually stupid? And to survive do I need more tools to deal with stupidity? Is idiocy something that I'm going to have to accept if I want to go on living? Is dysgenics here to stay?

These are serious questions. I don't know if I can do it. I just don't. I've considered that maybe it's because, in high school, I gave up tv. I didn't want to be controlled by it, & so I boycotted it (exceptions: Twin Peaks. Ally McBeal. Sex & The City. And for the record, I hate Friends.). But maybe I should watch tv. Maybe it'll teach me how to say things more nicely, or at least more effectively to the rest of the world, which is probably fairly effusively tv-watching. Maybe I'll be able to relate to other people instead of considering them blithering idiots that should be spayed or neutered.

I watched 3 episodes of House.

Michael Turner

2008-06-28T11:50:00.001-10:00

Passed away last night. Fuck.

Yelp! reviewers.

2008-06-26T03:01:00.002-10:00

Sign up at Boorah instead. I read a comment somewhere that Yelp's user networking is more like MySpace than anything else, & the level of membership is about as mature. I'd have to agree based on my experience so far. It's a website where anyone with an asshole (or an opinion) can take a cheap shot & not be held accountable for it. It might be a statement about the quality of people nowadays, or maybe it's just a case of a pile of shit attracting flies.

Oh, Mary M.

2008-06-23T03:53:00.033-10:00

It would appear I've got a fan. Today I heard that at a website called Yelp ("Real people. Real reviews.") someone named Mary M. was bashing my stellar bartending service.

I took a look:

This is a fun little hole-in-the wall kind of neighborhood bar that is nothing like Cheers or Murphy's or O'Tooles. It is very low-key, very small and the bar has a nice collection of rock karaoke songs.

If you live in Kaimuki, this is a fun place for you to experience. I wish I could own a little neighborhood bar like this! Seems like everyone pretty much knows each other and when you step into the bar it feels like you've walked into a private party - but they don't mind you hanging with them.
Have fun - and sing a little Slayer for me, would ya?

*added June 1*
Maybe I spoke too soon about how cool this place was? LOL
Actually, it still is a cool place, and the people are friendly - there's just one little thing that bugged me about the bar.....and that is a bartender there named Lauren.

Now, I'm going to try to be fair, and not too mean, but I'll just tell y'all what happened one night when I was sitting at the bar and our fair bartender Lauren walked in to start her shift.

She was sulky, and rude, and didn't seem to care if we wanted to order drinks. She was more interested in singing karaoke songs and perfecting her dour look. Any time we ordered a drink, she looked like we were putting her out. Then, to top it off, when my friend asked if they had a particular song she said "no, we don't have that song here. We don't have those kinds of songs. You can go to the bar around the back - they have songs like that."
Now, let me just say, we know they have that song there, because my friend had sung it there before. So...

WTF?

And, she basically told us to go next door because the song we wanted didn't measure up to her lame "cool" standards.

Here's the deal, people go to a bar to have a few drinks, unwind, have a good time. Do they really need to deal with such a bad attitude? Lauren, lighten up. Have fun, smile a little and don't give people a hard time when they just want to unwind and have some fun.

Yeah, I responded.

Hey Mary M - I know exactly who you are. You guys were special.

I'm so sorry we didn't have "Mack The Knife" in our book. We've added around 900 songs, old & new to the new computer system over the last few months & the book doesn't get updated immediately. But that's where my apologies end. I had asked you & your friend if you were ok several times & was denied to the point where I felt perhaps you only wanted to be served by Terrence, who had gotten your first round of drinks. I said nothing as you discussed me with eachother, never saying anything to me even though I was standing right in front of you. And when your friend was unable to find his "Mack The Knife" in our book, I explained that although we might not have it, any other bar --- including Aloha Lounge immediately behind us --- would have that song. Quite different from telling you to leave. If I wanted you to leave, trust me: I would have told you to.

Our karaoke list has been painstakingly & intensely compiled over a period of 10 years. When we first opened Pub Kagami, my ex-husband & I passionately wanted to host a bar with hard-to-find rock songs like Sabbath's "Heaven & Hell" or Benatar's "Promises In The Dark." As your friend raised his voice insisting that he had sung it before, I found myself puzzled about the upset. Is it the only song he knows?

Then you 2 were openly upset that your song cost you $1. When you stiffed me I wasn't surprised. Not because I felt I deserved to get stiffed, but because it was obvious what kind of people you were.

When you came in a couple of weeks ago with your friends you never said a word to me; I waited on your group & everything seemed fine, & I certainly didn't hold a grudge but obviously you did. I'm glad you found a public channel to vent, but frankly honey, feel free to come back in & say it to my face. And you don't have to "try to be fair." lol

A word about my service. I'm your bartender. I get your drinks. It's not my job to like you. It's not my job to PRETEND I like you. We're a small bar & we've got 5 tables --- that means no room for jerks. And frankly there are PLENTY of people who are quite pleasant.

I don't need you, Mary.

As I said, I know exactly who this woman is. I remember her quite clearly, because she & her companion were total pieces of shit. Maybe they were expecting to sit on a bar where the bartender will lick your toes if you treat her like a peon. Or maybe they didn't like the way I looked. I did hear the sarcastic comment about my being "sexy." They said it like it was an offense. But realistically, every once in awhile people just don't like eachother, & the reason is not always obvious.

Anyone in the service industry knows what I'm talking about. Sometimes people just hate you as soon as they see you. Sometimes you hate them as soon as you see them. At my job, it's a rarity, but hey --- it does happen. It's fine by me.

As for me being a dick, I'll say it: I'M GUILTY. Oh yes, I can be a dick. An unapologetic dick. Do I have a bad attitude? Hell yes. Do people still have a great time when I'm working? Absolutely. It's because I'm not a dick to them. And why am I not a dick to them? Because they weren't dicks to me.

This is the 2nd Bar Stories post I've made, & so far 2 out of 2 are about repulsive customers. I don't want to mislead you; 9 days out of 10 all I ever deal with are great customers. I remember Mary M quite clearly --- & so does Terrence --- because she was atypical. We're really blessed at our bar to have the kind of clientele that we do. Cool people. Nice people. Down-to-earth, mature people. Events like this one are anomalies.

Based on her review of Side Street Inn I'd guess that the servers there didn't like her either.

When I don't like someone, I don't try to pretend otherwise. It's not my job to like everyone, although I'll still get them a drink if they order one. The ironic thing about people like Mary M, who can't be pleased, is that they really have a hand in their own experience by pissing me off. Be a dick to me, & I can tell you exactly how I'll respond. Decide that I'm a piece of shit, & I'll be happy to validate your experience for you.

Later, Mary M actually messaged me on Yelp. I guess when the safety of internet anonymity isn't working, there's a sudden urge to be nice. I hate when this happens.

Lauren,
Several people here on Yelp! emailed me regarding your review. Looks like I obviously upset you a great deal. I'm sorry for the bad review that I wrote, but I was so angry the night I left 9th Avenue. I had been there so many times before and never had a bad experience there until that night with you.

We ALWAYS leave more than 20% when we tip, and have always enjoyed 9th Avenue in the past. I don't know why you didn't like us, but it was obviously from the get-go that you didn't want us there. And honestly, as a bartender/hostess it is a big responsibility of yours to make your guests feel welcome and appreciated. I think you don't quite understand what an important role your job is.

I feel that my review was honest and concise, but if it will make you feel better I will edit my comments. It's been a long time since the incident and I'm willing to move on.

Don't worry, I know this is bullshit. "It's been a long time since the incident" but her flamer edit was June 1st, probably right after the last time she & her friends came in --- it was probably then that she did her detective work so that she could write about me. The ironic thing is that it was a fun night. But naturally events like that aren't valid when someone's got an axe to grind.

And of course I wrote back to her. Sorry, it's a long one.

Hi Mary - I'd appreciate if you left your review as is, especially if you feel it was honest. My response was honest also. Our discussion actually brings up what I feel are pertinent issues. I'd like to think that people will read it & decide they hate me, & try to avoid coming in on Sunday nights when I work. Please feel free to spread the word that the bitch bartender with "lame" standards works on Sunday nights.

We've asked the Honolulu Weekly & other papers to NOT review us. We DON'T want publicity. We're TOO SMALL for publicity. We're a bar that was opened with a very specific crowd in mind --- the musically gifted ones. Well, & the fishermen. Because we're into fishing too.

We never wanted to have these hordes of idiots who want to yell (not sing) "La Isla Bonita" or "Sailing" 5 times a night while dancing on a chair. On bad nights Terrence literally hides in the kitchen all night because he can't take it. I, unfortunately, have to stand out there & listen to the noise pollution. Why do we have Shure 58 mics, which cost us $600 a pop (for the wireless ones, hell yeah they cost that much)? So that 10 people can yell at the top of their lungs into them? Fuck no!

Regarding my responsibilities as a bartender/hostess. Mary, if you ask any of my regulars they will tell you that I am an excellent pour, that 9 times out of 10 I have their drink ready even before they sit down, I keep an eye on them & they get their orders right away if not before they even make the order. While I can't claim such efficiency with non-regulars, I do try very hard, & even on insanely busy nights I see a lot of happy faces & receive many compliments.

Since 2002 almost every damn song in our karaoke book was picked out & put in there by me. No, we don't serve mojitos. No, we don't have little umbrellas. YES we have a lot of hard-to-find karaoke. I put it there. You like Slayer, Mary? I bought that, & I put it in our karaoke book. I didn't create a bar meant for pina coladas or cheerleading. I created a bar meant for rock. And if I have attitude about it I am unapologetic.

Can I be a dick? Absolutely. Can I be a bartender & act like a dick? Absolutely. Will people get turned off? I hope so. Because if you want to get your dick sucked then you've got to go next door to Town or something. I won't do it. I WILL get your drink, & I WILL be nice to you if you're nice to me. And if you're a dick to me, then my response to that will be quite predictable.

And I won't hold it against you the next time you come in. Those that care to get to know me will. Those that don't are free to go somewhere else where they can get a foot massage or whatever it is they want.

Also, a 20% tip is great --- if you're in a restaurant. Maybe I'm spoilt because the majority of my regulars, for 10 years, have been long-time barflies or industry people: other bartenders, cocktail servers, fine dining servers. In a bar the tipping meter is a little different. In a restaurant there is a specific routine - drinks, apps, main course, dessert, coffee - & a generally consistent service time. It's perfectly fine to tip a percentage of the tab because the tab amount is a good gauge of how much service occurred. In a bar there is no such meter. It can be crazy or barely live.

What if you sat on the bar & were monitored by your server for 4 hours, but only spent $20? A $4 tip? Are you kidding? As someone in the industry, I think you don't quite understand what an important role your server has.

Anyway, I've rambled on long enough. I'm off to a certain popular sports bar. Where, I'd like to add, the mics & speakers are SO SHITTY that the owner, who is a musician, sits on my bar every Sunday because he won't sing in his own bar. And he always tips $20-$30 regardless of what his tab looks like.

I'm not mad at you, Mary. In fact, I felt bad when I first heard about your review. But then I remembered how you had behaved & figured I'd better speak up for myself. Please leave your review up there. If I look like a total bitch, then it would be quite fulfillingly accurate as well as practical.

You might really like Rene, who works on Mondays & Tuesdays. She's very sweet & quiet as well as pretty. We still have karaoke on those nights but Rene is not a musician type so she doesn't have any of the snobberies that I do. However, since we have not yet updated our book, "Mack The Knife" STILL isn't in there. You'll have to ask Terrence to manually look it up on the computer.

Bye now.

I then made one more post on the 9th Avenue Rock House page for the general Yelp community, which was of course flagged & torn down within 24 hours:

It's me again. I only made a Yelp account so I could defend myself here, so I probably won't be checking back here unless I get another flurry of phone calls telling me my honor is being besmirched or whatever.

For the record, I'd like people to know that Mary is totally right about me being a dick, & if anyone else wants to come sit on my bar then they'll have to run the risk of my unapologetic DICKNESS. If you suck, I'll usually tell you. If I didn't like your friend, I'll ask you not to bring him next time. Seriously. I'm a total dick. With "lame" standards no less.

Lucky for you people I only work on Sunday nights now, so 6 nights a week you can be waited on by Rene or Shazia, who are completely adorable & will probably still be nice to you even if they don't like you.

We use a Mackie 808M PA, Mackie speakers, & very expensive Shure 58 mics. If you look like some of the morons we get on the weekends you won't get the 58; you'll get the crappy Vocopro mic but it's really only because you wouldn't know the difference anyway & you look like you might drop it on the floor. The Vocopros are way cheaper than the Shures; we're just trying to save you some money.

I once hurt Derek Paiva's feelings by calling his positive review of our bar a "promotional attack." Well, it kind of was. He told people that our bar is a place where you can suck at singing & everyone will still love you. So as a result all these people who couldn't sing AT ALL started flooding our place. Dancing on the chairs. Pushing our regulars out.

That's only on the weekends, folks. And the thing about having everyone in the bar sing along with you? I've actually had words with parties who were screaming so loud that the customers who PAID for the song couldn't hear themselves at all. It's great if you like this song that Steph ordered, but since she paid for it LET HER SING THE DAMN SONG.

We don't have unparalleled karaoke sound equipment so that 10 people can scream into a mic. We have this great set up so that 1 or 2 people --- the people who intend to sing the song --- can scream "Ramble On" or "Dirty Deeds." Like Karaoke Hut, we actually have karaoke enthusiasts that come in because of the selection & the equipment. Unlike Karaoke Hut, we don't have room for people who want to do a Girls Gone Wild theme night.

Terrence, the owner & my boss, is so sweet & gentle that he would never suggest to someone that their singing sounded like nails on a chalkboard. I, however, will. So just remember: Sunday nights. The nasty bartender works on Sunday nights.

I'd like to thank Mary for posting her bad review. The verbal support I've received from regulars has convinced me that I'm an even BETTER bartender than I thought. I want to buy Mary a Christmas present now. I won't though.

Goodbye Yelp community! Anyone who wishes to talk smack to me can email me at Tamastara@gmail.com. If you'd like an Excel file of Reid's karaoke list that's the email to request it from as well.

This morning I got a stern letter from Sydney at Yelp User Support informing me that my "personal attack" posts had been removed. Oh, the irony!

Out there are a bunch of Yelp! subscribers who hate me. As I contemplate that, I find myself trying to care. But it's futile. There, I tried again. Nope. No luck here.

Honestly, I'm not mad at her. We've actually had pretty civil correspondence since then & she seems like a nice person, sans the internet anonymity. And so ends the Yelp! Real People, Real Reviews chapter. As well as their credibility.

MORE LIKE SUCKQUIEM

2008-06-21T23:30:00.001-10:00

HAHAHA

Mercury! Yummy!

2008-06-20T12:49:00.004-10:00

Recently this video was recommended to me via email because it contained important revelations about CFLs. But I instead gained some important revelations about how ignorant our own politicians can be.

I wrote back:

This guy doesn't actually have a lot to stand on so he made his speech distractingly flamboyant. But it doesn't work very well.

CFLs are actually quite hardy & not that easy to break. The levels of mercury, furthermore, in a CFL bulb are not actually as high as this guy is ignorantly implying. Precautions are necessary in the unlikely event of breakage, but the broken glass of any kind of light bulb is probably more of a threat than the mercury.

What he's really protesting is the inconvenience of using CFLs. But even then he hasn't done his homework.

Americans are quite pretentious in thinking that we can abuse the environment & its resources as much as we do & not bother with recycling or conservation. Our nation really just produces a lot of garbage, because we can afford to. One day when our money runs out we'll find that we have been behind the times.

It should not be a huge problem to visit a recycling center. On top of that, CFLs last so long there would really not be many trips needed. They do not burn out like incandescent bulbs. They last for multiple years. The average life of a CFL is 10,000 hours whereas that of an incandescent is 750. How long would it take you to use up 10,000 hours?

As far as production in China, I would expect the US private sector will eventually take an interest in CFL production since it is obviously going to be a reliable market. And if it's not cost effective, then it is still in the US's best interests to acquire CFLs from another country. Perhaps when we run out of landfills we can rent land from China as well. I don't think that China has some secret plot to kill the US through commercial products. I think they are doing what they do best: mass produce things. They are a country of industry. On top of that, they have no reason to try to destroy us. If the US was gone, who would buy all their stuff?

While I don't support a full ban of incandescents, I do think that we need to start having more awareness of our resource usage, & I do think that widespread conversion to CFL would be a good thing. He's right that we should be searching for alternatives outside of CFL use. We should be switching to CFLs as well as seeking as many energy solutions as we can find. We should be doing all of that.

Sex & The City

2008-06-14T11:47:00.007-10:00

So. I finally went to see this movie.

Sex & The City is one of the few tv shows that I actually sat down to watch tv for. When I say "few," I mean the only one, actually. The only other tv series I watched regularly was Ally McBeal, & I watched it standing up & walking around, because it was on the tvs at On The Rocks Cafe every Tuesday night & I was cocktailing at the time.

There are reviews of this show all over the web by now. I refuse to brave theaters during the 1st week of release so I see everything when it's already been chewed up & spit out. But here's my review.

Great movie. I don't usually go in for stuff like this, being partial to Scifi Adventure (Iron Man was The Shit.). I knew it was going to hurt at some places & I knew I was going to cry, which really didn't sit well with me, but thankfully theaters are dark.

Sex & The City is from the Brad era. There, I've said it: the word most of my close friends (I do have some) avoid saying around me. Like EQ, S&TC was a point of ridicule for my HBA boyfriend until he accidentally saw some of it over my shoulder (I could only watch it at his house, not having a tv of my own), & then he ended up on the couch with me, laughing at the girls' antics & pondering awkward situations. Like EQ, it was another thing that bonded us. Or bonded me, anyway.

But Carrie & Big ended up together while Brad & I parted ways. So a return to S&TC, knowing that it would culminate in a wedding (of course it would; are you stupid??), wasn't necessarily attractive to me. However, there was no way I couldn't attend. I had to attend.

In the beginning of the movie there were some flashbacks of Carrie & Big's previous break-ups, one of them in which Carrie begged Big: "Just tell me I'm The One. Just tell me... I'm The One." Which, we know from history, he couldn't do, & so they broke up.

I only vaguely remembered that episode, probably because it was too close to home at the time. When Louise, Carrie's new personal assistant, confided in Carrie that her ex-boyfriend had broken her heart telling her that he loved her but just didn't feel she was the one, I wanted to throw my soda at the movie screen.

I'm much less permeable now. But I can still get pissed.

I had never understood our break up (Break ups. There were 5 of them.). His explanations never made sense, nor did his behavior. If he would have just told me that he simply wasn't in love with me any more it would have made it easier for me. Would make it easier for me. But instead, as he extricated himself from my life, Brad insisted, like his life depended on it, that he loved me, really loved me. Gimme a pain sandwich with extra confusion & a side of ambiguous bullshit please. Yummy!!

After failing to meet her at the altar, Big sends Carrie a series of love letters. They are all (fictitiously), but one, quotes from famous love letters, because he can't find his own words & doesn't know what to say but still had to say something. Fortunately, Big did write one letter on his own. So. He did really have thoughts of his own. Thank goodness, since she took him back.

When I think back to all the different break up excuses Brad came up with, it's actually pretty funny. To this day I still don't know why we broke up. But part of me has been walking around all this time puzzling over not being The One. What would make someone The One. How someone knows when someone else is The One. Who I know that recognized The One. How could I have thought he was The One. Etc etc.

But maybe I can get off the hook here. Because maybe Brad was just saying whatever he could come up with to validate our break up. Maybe he was just quoting a break up expert because in actuality he didn't know what to say. And here I've been trying to figure this shit out for 3 years. And 30 days.

I know that using a movie to invalidate my last relationship is cheap, but maybe it's appropriate. At least there was one love letter that Big composed on his own. He did eventually find his own words.

Grats, Carrie. And grats me.

And THIS, my friends, is why I don't go to these kinds of movies.

AT&T Customer Service

2008-06-12T01:49:00.000-10:00

4,000+ rollover minutes to use by July 4th. Plus the 600 I never use. How will I do it?

23 months ago I was in the midst of a painful, languishing dating situation. He was hot, he was a musician, he had a good job, he had a great house, he had 4 dogs. He was also hot. The problem was that he had a Cingular phone & he wouldn't fucking stop calling me, constantly, all day, all the time. He would even call me during my Thursday night BWL raid, when I had told him I would be unavailable to chat. But I put up with this nonsense because, well, he was hot.

He ran my T Mobile bill up to $200. I went out & got a damn Cingular phone.

I got rid of him a month later. I just can't talk on the phone that much. And here I was stuck with a 2-year contract. I had perhaps 5 friends with Cingular accounts, all of whom were more likely to text or call from a landline than call me on their Cingular phones. I'm not much of a phone talker to begin with.

I gave the phone to my mom who used an average of 45 weekend minutes per month & nothing else. Add 600 new rollover minutes, every billing cycle. For 23 months. Yeah, minutes expired while I paid $55 each month. Sheesh.

But emancipation is now imminent.

Cancellation was a painless, pleasant process. Cancellation can't be done at the AT&T website, & when I was informed I would have to call their customer service number I experienced misgivings.

I called 1-800-331-0500 & went through the automated menu options. The recorded voice spoke quickly (unlike HMSA Provider Services' recordings, which draw out every word & every space between every word to the max length short of actually slowing down the recording) & I only had to choose options twice: 0, then 4. Then as I was being transferred to a representative, my T Mobile phone lost signal & I was disconnected. For a second I thought it was a dirty trick (they did this to us at Tricare), but then I realized it was my T Mobile connection. Talk about irony.

My 2nd call to the 1-800 number was answered almost immediately by a CSR who was not from India (hey, this is already better than Dell!). Not only could I hear her clearly, she was very pleasantly to the point & did not attempt to waylay my cancellation attempt by reciting special offers that I might be interested in over & over again (already better than Citicard). I explained that I wished to cancel simply because of non-use, which could be seen plainly on my account information. She then transferred me to another representative who would do the actual cancellation.

I was interviewed briefly & not inappropriately, & then the cancellation was done. I was informed of the exact end date, my options should I wish to reactivate, & details of my final billing. She thanked me for my business with AT&T & wished me well.

Now, that's how a cancellation of service should go.

Food Review: Chez David

2008-06-10T02:34:00.001-10:00

Once upon a time I was having dinner with my brother at Kincaid's, which is a wonderful option if you are looking for good, affordably-priced prime rib. Occasionally they have a very hot mama singing in the lounge area as well.

Add to that their ability to provide prime rib at the requested temperature. That earns like 300 points in my book. The correct temperature is huge. Huge.

"I'd like the prime rib," I told our server. "Rare. Like bloody rare. Like swimming in blood. If I can't get that, let me know & I'll order a steak." I'm generally pretty clear about how I like my beef.

"Same," my brother said.

When our dinners came, they were both just what I had asked for. It was just barely warm. I was greatly pleased, & our server was smug. My brother was actually a little nauseated.

There's only one thing, however, that is better than a bloody rare roast. And that would be a bloody rare roast with nuggets of raw garlic & a pothead's supply of butter sauteed mushrooms.

Now that's what I'm talking about.

I've had my brother David's chili, & it's probably the best chili I've ever tasted. Eye widening flavor & just a little too spicy. Now that's good chili. It's gotta hurt a little, like a good Anejo.

So when Audrey & I showed up for our table at Chez David, I was thinking about chili. But as soon as we got in the door I knew I was very, very wrong. But in a good way.

Fee, fi, fo, fum. I smell beef.

Yum.

Sorry, I couldn't resist.

The chef was cooking a healthy portion of heaven in an impressive-looking rotisserie oven. The instructions had said 15 minutes per pound, so he was cooking it 10 minutes per pound, he said. Or something like that. Heavy salivation affects my hearing.

"It's probably ready already," I said. Hey, once the outside looks brown that's good. I mean, you wouldn't want to burn it, right?
David promptly removed the roast & started carving it up. I guess the smell was getting to him too.

As you can see, it was perfect. I've left this photo large simply because it's too pretty to size down any more.

Entertainment while we dined consisted of the much-bloodier-than-the-theater-version director's cut of Troy (hell yes). Between the excellent meal & Brad Pitt as Achilles, it was a deeply fulfilling feast of... well, meat.

I'd have to give this experience five stars.

We'll definitely be coming back. David has a copy of 300.

Doggy futons

2008-06-08T03:15:00.009-10:00

There's someone who would, if she was reading my blog, undoubtedly correct my loose use of the term "futon" so I'll apologize now. However, I don't think she reads my stuff any more. I think I've hidden away sufficiently.

Although he has a gorgeous house built by my dad, Jack prefers his old carrier, which was his bed when I first brought him home. It betrayed him by flooding Friday night during a heavy rain, which sent both Jack & Chie into the wooden house. I cleaned out the carrier, but Jack had not gone back into it for any of his naps all day Saturday.

The cloth mats I used to cushion his carrier (thick woven placemats - perfect size) had gotten damp & I'd pulled them out of the carrier & left them piled just outside. When I noticed Jack perched morosely on top of the pile, trying to sleep, it occurred to me that perhaps he liked that cushiony stuff. I needed to launder the placemats, so I'd have to find something else for him. Or... make somethine else.

I raided my grandmother's ample store of rags --- threadbare towels, ripped shirts & other clothing --- & picked out the softest pieces along with a smooth rectangle of linen. I spread the rags around, folded it into the linen, & started sewing the edges. I added intermittent single stitched knots to hold the insides in place. Jack's new futon was just the right size --- slightly too big for the floor of the carrier.

No sooner had I laid it in his carrier than Jack lay down on it.

However, Chie suddenly developed an interest in the previously unappealing carrier. A slight tussle developed & the futon ended up outside on the porch.

Hm.

I returned to the rag box, & sewed another, slightly firmer but more heavily filled, doggy bodypillow. This longer, peanut-shaped futon went into the deluxe doghouse, & Chie immediately nestled up against it. But as soon as she had to pee Jack got up to investigate & ended up possessively hugging the bodypillow in the dog house, & Chie happily collapsed on the first, softer cushion.

I hadn't realized that Jack & Chie would appreciate something soft to sleep on; this is the first time that I've seen Chie sleep inside anything, carrier or doghouse, unless it was raining. I thought all this time that she preferred to sleep just outside my door because it was cooler.

But maybe dogs like sleeping on beds too.

I guess I'll be raiding that rag box more often. I think we'll need more futons. I wonder if I should buy some foam for pillows too, or would that be tempting fate? Who knows how many pieces my hard, finger-poking (yes, I sewed some parts with a needle & thread) work will be in tomorrow morning when cozy sleep is no longer in vogue.

But I guess it's worth it if I can get cute pictures like this.

A Little Rant: Pi'ikoi & Lunalilo

2008-06-07T21:00:00.006-10:00

Pi'ikoi & Lunalilo has got to be one of the most annoying intersections that I know of.

Left turners from Pi'ikoi never seem to have a problem fucking over those of us hoping to turn left down Pensacola just so they can get on the freeway a few minutes sooner. It's really amazing how base the human spirit can be when it comes to getting in front of someone else.

In the past I've driven up as close as possible to the asshats blocking my way & then held down my horn. Just held it down, continuously, until they got the fuck out of my way. Yeah, it's amazing.

Further up where the freeway onramp is there are always even more dickheads pushing their way into the already congested lane to get on the freeway. When in the onramp lane, I always deny admission. Fuck that. If you needed to get on the freeway, you could have gotten into this lane a long time ago & waited in line like the rest of us. Instead these schmucks think they're so much more important than the rest of us on the road that they cruise right on up the "to Ward Avenue" lane & then want to cut in at the last moment. Again: fuck that. I even drive past the upset would-be cutters mouthing "Noooooooo" out my window. Yeah, fuck them.

Ok, I feel better now. I'm going to forward this to Dave Hisaka.

Aye-Aye!

2008-06-04T23:49:00.007-10:00

Omg, I want one.

This is an Aye Aye; it's an endangered nocturnal primate in Madagascar, unafraid of humans (they've been known to scamper up & sniff environmentalists' shoes) but reputed by natives to be a harbinger of death, & so now is an endangered species due to habitat destruction & superstitious extermination by villagers.

The picture at right is of newborn Kintana, captive bred in Britain. Apparently this species is the only surviving member of its genus, having branched off from the Lemur line 66 million years ago.

So far at least 2 babies have been born & hand-raised in captivity at Bristol Zoo. I only just heard of these guys from a cool email that Mike sent today, featuring the 25 strangest animals.

This thing is my ideal pet based on appearances alone. Talk about love at first sight. If it could intermittently mutter evil-sounding phrases I would be catching a plane to Madagascar tomorrow.

Omg, so cute.

A Little Visit To Anna's

2008-05-28T02:56:00.006-10:00

There's a chances some of you may not know Eric.

Eric is identified on my phone as "Jukebox Hero." This is partly because I have other Erics on my phone list & an appellative ID becomes necessary, & partly because Eric can do Foreigner like no other in our bar. He's also my indispensable source of "Cara Mia," but Jay & The Americans is just too long & frankly "Cara Mia" would make me think of Gomez & Morticia. By the way, his pitch is better than that linked video.

(Pictured above, Anna's veteran & Guinness drinker Porter doing sound, & Peter Bond of Hat Makes The Man, Spiny Norman, & Island Guitars fame.)

Eric, however, does not sing in his band, named Stone Jones (uh oh) for lead singer Rob Jones; he plays bass while childhood friend Rob plays guitar & sings. They were playing "Cat Scratch Fever" as Terrence & I approached the building, & that was pretty much the only song I recognized; Stone Jones is a mostly originals act. Fun times!

My Favorite Cheese.

2008-05-27T05:03:00.004-10:00

Hurray for 2am grocery shopping.

The green Cracker Barrel cheese, in a jumbo size no less, sat there on the Hawaii Kai Safeway shelf like Wilson Flannery, that blue-eyed sweetie who gave me his milk carton seedling at the end of the school day in 1st grade at Case Elementary, the closest thing to a long-stemmed rose I would ever receive for many years. Only Wilson would be 37 years old now. I might not recognize him.

That Cracker Barrel looked just the same, though. A little stouter; 20 oz instead of the usual 10 oz, but join the club, eh?

During college days this was my absolute favorite cheese. A block of Cracker Barrel Vermont Sharp White Cheddar & a fresh baguette from the Patisserie; this is what I sat down to at lunch time. At Silke's house we would boil pasta & mulch the entire 10 ounces on the jumbo grater. And in my sunlit dorm room, I would read my Oscar Wilde (I did read some of the assignments, you know) with a plate containing 2 slices of Healthnut bread & a third of a block of cheese. Or a plateful of the best crackers ever, Stoned Wheat Thins.

The red & yellow Cracker Barrels were found on most dairy shelves, but the green one could only be gotten at Star Kahala, & sometimes Times Kahala.

And then it disappeared. I'd look in vain at every cheese display at ever grocery store I went to, without hope. Red & yellow, no green. I visited the Kraft website to find that no one in Hawaii sold it. Until now. God bless you, Hawaii Kai Safeway.

My week just got brighter.

Adventures In Bartending: May 2008

2008-05-26T03:41:00.009-10:00

Ok, so I know I'm not the friendliest bartender but I strive to do my job. With the regulars, it's no problem. Non-regulars, however, have wandered in to our bar & I've stood at attention behind the bar, frozen, as I waited for them to make eye contact with me so I can get their drink order.

Half the time, I'm ignored. I can see that they've seen me, but they spend several minutes looking around, at anything but me, or they engage their friends in conversation, or they avoid my gaze & duck to one of the 5 tables in our tiny place, where they sit & look around for a waittress, causing me to have to come out from behind the bar & corner them so I can get a DAMN DRINK ORDER.

Often I say with a crisp smile, "I was going to send the waittress over, but there is none."

One evening, my bar owner/bartender/alcoholic friend Bryan was sitting on my bar as I failed to make eye contact with a couple of fools who had walked in & were scrupulously looking everywhere but in my direction - left, right, at the ceiling & the floor. I looked at Bryan & said, "Maybe they don't want a drink."

"You're intimidating them," he replied, in a You Moron tone.

Psh.

Last week the bartender from the yuppypond restaurant next door poked her head in our empty, Thin Lizzy-playing bar (it was still early; 9:30ish) to warn us that she was sending over some "ladies." Any time a warning like that is needed is a red flag. "Don't worry, they've already had a lot of drinks & they won't stay long," she said with a big smile. If I had had a shotgun in my hands she would have been dead.

A few minutes later we were invaded by a dance-stepping, whooping group of The Golden Girls Gone Wild. They completely ignored me as I stood there, like a soldier, filing past me & alighting at a table. Then they sat there, looking expectantly around for a waittress. I put on my best neutral smile & trudged to the table. "Hi," I said. "Can I get you anything?"

The middle one asked if we had any "after dinner" drinks. For a moment I had too many thoughts in my head to say anything --- why would we have an after-dinner drink menu when we don't serve dinner, didn't they just have dinner at a Suck Your Dick eatery with a liquor license that would surely have a gorgeous laminated Cocktails For Idiots menu, certainly with all the different liquor in our establishment we could probably whip up some kind of drink for someone to imbibe after they had eaten dinner --- but only the 1st one came out.

Heh. I know, I should have used the 3rd one. The after dinner drinker ordered a "Kahlua. With ice" & I flew away to make their drinks. A little while later, 2 more of them showed up, & when I approached the table, the Kahlua lady asked if she could have some milk with her Kahlua.

"Oh, we don't have any," I said, truthfully. We haven't had milk for... I think not since 2002.

"You don't have any??" one of the newcomers said. "Not even any cream? So you can't make a Prince Charles??" She was outraged.

Several images of body piercing clouded my mind as I said, "No one ever orders that." We don't have coffee either, by the way.

"Well, I just did," she said archly.

Ooh, you wrinkled old self-righteous BITCH. I smiled at her snarlingly. She refused to order & advised the other lady who had come in with her not to either. I collected for the drinks that had already been served & in another minute they all stalked out like a Geriatrics Pride parade. Naturally they stiffed me. I mean, I didn't have any CREAM.

The mistake these women made was, well, coming to our place after having been wined, dined, & 69'd (gross) at the place next door, which caters to people like them. We, on the other hand, are not a "Very good Sir" kind of place. We really would rather have 5 guys in here watching our Paul Rodgers with Queen DVD than 20 dumbasses asking where the restroom is. We're not the Arcadia. We don't have FUCKING MILK.

The mistake I made was probably the dinner drink remark. You know, I know that there are people who don't know their heads from their asses when it comes to cocktails. They think that the only drinks available are those printed on the little laminated card. I have difficulty accepting that sometimes the most efficient way to serve someone their drink is to play along with their stupidity. But I have such a hard time doing it. And I'm completely unrepentant for not having milk.

My resolution for May 2008 is to be more patient with the feeble minded. I will try to control my facial expressions, especially the "You fucking retard" one. I will try to sigh more quietly or just inwardly. I will try to smile more.

I don't work again until June 1st anyway.

All My Faves

2008-05-19T13:39:00.002-10:00

My friend Mike just told me about this. It's a page of popular website links, segregated by interest.

My goodness.

Seriously.

2008-05-18T02:16:00.005-10:00

This stuff is THE SHIT.

I only ordered it (click on the picture to see where I ordered it from) to make a minimum, but I had no idea it was going to resolve Puppy's longstanding hairball problem.

Puppy's got long, fluffy hair. The kind of hair that, released in midair, simply hangs there. Coon heritage. As soon as it starts getting warm, Puppy's shedding... which also means that he's puking. Honeygirl, short-haired, will produce a hairball perhaps once a week, whereas Puppy can yell monsters out twice a day. One day Honeygirl let loose right between my feet as I lay sleeping (so much for that) in bed. As I staggered around removing sheets from my bed, I saw that Puppy had similarly evacuated onto my chair.

The hairballs were a problem. I fed Puppy Petromalt 4 times a week, & the only change was that his hairballs became Petromalt-colored.

I had taken to trimming Puppy's hair with scissors, since there was no way I was getting near him with a buzzer, so he would walk around covered with rat bite --- & still there would be daily hairpuke to clean up. Brushing didn't help at all either --- Puppy had more hair to remove via brush than he was willing to sit still for, & Puppy's generally a very obedient boy.

So when the Brewer's Yeart supplement arrived, I started adding the crushed tablets to both cats' meals. They didn't care for it at first, but have since become resigned.

Within a week there were no more hairballs. Puppy hasn't thrown up since. The tumbleweeds of cat hair that used to adorn every upright surface adjacent to my floor are... gone. It's like a miracle.

This has to be the best $10.99 I've spent in a long time. Turns out Brewer's Yeast is also used as a supplement among humans to aid with the uptake of B vitamins (hey!) as well as stave off mosquitoes & other parasitic bugs.

Hm. Thinking about it. If I yack up a hairball you can bet I'll be eating that stuff every day.

In other news, I got a fucking speeding ticket the other night. The cop was a real dick about it, too; it was like he was there to prove my HPD comments in the last post right. Jacob Miyashiro. When I asked another of my cop friends about him, the first thing he said was, "Yeah, that guy is a dick."

My safety check is due this month.

All's Well On May... whatever day this is.

2008-05-13T13:33:00.003-10:00

Things seem to be going along swimmingly. Jack & Chie are inseparable, & although I have to search for my slippers every time I step out of the house, Chie's hiding places are fairly predictable so it's not too bad.

Tonight, hopefully, I am going to see Iron Man at least with my sister if not with Keola, who first proposed a movie night. Where the hell are you Keola? Problems with the Mobi, probably.

I've been having anger problems lately. We think it's the Mircette. The other evening I flipped off a cop who was following me, obviously hoping to find something he could pull me over for as I had just left a bar.

I have bad news for you, buddy. I had diet coke all night. Fuck off.

But that wasn't it; I think that was relatively appropriate. What disturbs me is that I then spent the rest of my drive home ranting furiously to myself about cops. How they're not here to help any of us & they're never around when someone actually needs help or when a crime is being committed... because they're all so busy stalking the average man waiting for him to make one mistake so they can write him a ticket. "Respect, Honor, Integrity," what is that BS? Cops are just another gang, except that they wear uniforms. Some of the most corrupt, malicious bastards I know are cops.

I could go on forever.

By the time I parked my car at home, I had to actually tell myself to shut the hell up & take a deep breath.

So I stopped taking the Mircette. Back to Yasmin for me. And I'd better check to see when my safety check is due.

Chie!

2008-05-10T02:01:00.020-10:00

I made thumbnails, so you can click on them for bigger pictures.

I'd told my veterinarian that I hoped to find another dog to keep Jack company, something a little bigger & more watchdog-oriented, to help my grandparents feel like there was some purpose in having dogs (eh, they're old-fashioned.). I'd always loved the way Chows looked, but I felt absolutely comfortable with Akitas, having grown up with them. The vet assistant jotted down some numbers for me.

When I mentioned that it was just really important to me to get another dog that was intelligent & easy to get along with, the veterinarian suggested I consider Australian Shepherd dogs.

As I had in the last few months, I continued checking the Humane Society, Kijiji, Craigslist & the Honolulu Advertiser Classifieds. I called up the numbers the vet assistant had gotten out of the Ilio & threw it away after 4 out-of-services in a row. In the meantime I kept reading about various breeds at Dogluvers & Michele Welton's site. I decided I really wanted a Chow. I still want a Chow. But no Chows are to be had, apparently. There were tons of breeds I didn't want --- I guess pitbulls & chihuahuas really have a lot of sex. It's like canine dysgenics or something.

Then today (well, yesterday), the Advertiser had an ad for the very dogs my veterinarian had suggested. No, they wouldn't be my natural first choice, but then I had never even seen one of these dogs, much less met one. The breeder called me back relatively quickly, & made arrangements to meet me in Kaneohe.

I was suspicious because I would not be able to meet the parents, but I wasn't eager to drive all the way out to the breeder's home in Laie either. I called around for someone to come with me & my faithful cousin Craig agreed to come along. The breeder told me that the puppies' red merle dam had been purchased from a breeder in Kauai, & that she had her blue merle sister as well. The sire was a tri-color working dog at a ranch in Kahaluu. Although she couldn't bring the dam along, she would bring me videos of the dam playing with her pups. We agreed to meet at He'eia Elementary campus, where she had gone through obedience classes.

Short of actually getting to meet the parents, a video & the breeder's testimony would have to do. At 2 years of age, the dam was too young to exhibit any genetic fallbacks anyway outside of personality traits, & I had boned up about judging puppy temperaments. Web images of blue merles fired me up & I drove out to the meeting with some apprehension, but a lot of anticipation as well.

When I got out there (sheesh, I don't know my way around), it was already getting dark, & so we carried the 3 rambunctious (And beautiful! Fuck it, I was already sold!) puppies to the basketball court lights, where I was mobbed with puppy kisses from 2 out of the 3. I hoped to wait until they lost interest in the humans & started cavorting with eachother, but they didn't. The humans were too fun to... to kiss, I guess.

They all appeared to be in excellent health, perhaps a little rotund, & certainly friendly & happy. The one that hadn't mobbed me was already lying on her back getting a bellyrub from my cousin & had no reservations whatsoever with his excited-by-puppies son. The other 2 just continued to socialize with us, as if we shouldn't be allowed to hold a discussion with other humans.

It occurred to me that any one of these puppies would do, all being beautiful, healthy, & of obviously shining disposition. So, as 14 years ago with Puppy, I chose based on looks. I picked the one with the most striking markings, & the only blue merle with some brown markings on her face & hind legs. Puppy is actually of very similar coloring, & as a kitten he had a few stray patches of orange which I found charming (your dad was a stray orange tabby, wasn't he?).

As soon as I brought her home, Grandma was enchanted. This is an extremely good sign, because Grandma is a self-admitted animal disliker. She likes Jack but only when he is on the other side of the screen door. But she couldn't not pet the new girl. My grandfather was pleased, my cats were pissed (Puppy took a swipe at her immediately.), & Jack was ecstatic.

Initially, after some very in-depth sniffing (can't get used to that), Jack jumped around trying to get her to chase him. Bring disoriented & tired, she refused, but when he began antagonizing her, she snapped back. They tussled for awhile but eventually she was trying to climb up my leg so I took it as a sign to bring her into the house.

Jack got a meaty raw beef bone to celebrate her arrival & the cats got slivers of raw beef. My grandmother looked up Japanese girl names but couldn't choose one, so I've decided on Chie.

Chie is passed out at my feet as I type. She whines when she needs to go outside, which she has twice tonight. Once she gets her bearings & hopefully a little bigger I think she'll be quite comfortable outside with Jack.

I'm going to need another doghouse though. They're not going to both fit in there in a couple of months.

Wanted: more puppies

2008-04-30T19:39:00.004-10:00

Dog parks are not enough.

Poor Jack got his face boxed by my boy cat (Puppy --- I know, it's confusing.) the other day; he may be fast enough to pin a mynah bird, but he's no match for a pissed off cat. Fortunately Puppy's smackdowns are more educational than murderous or Jack would be missing an eye by now.

He's got a huge crush on Honeygirl --- & who wouldn't? --- but she doesn't like being jumped on. She's game enough for a little nose-sniffing, but Jack consistently loses his cool & tries to jump on her, causing her to hiss & run away... & then Puppy comes over & lays down the law.

While Jack is being raised with cats, my cats were not raised with anyone else except me. Jack will probably have a rough time fitting in with them, although he's already gotten the knack of breaking eye contact when Puppy gets in his face.

What we need are more dogs. Yes. Jack needs a brother or a sister --- preferably a sister --- & they can jump on eachother. That didn't sound right. They can play together, make dog friendliness together, chase mynah birds together. Right now Jack relies exclusively on me for company since he's not popular in the feline club & my grandparents don't really go out into the yard. Thing is, sometimes I sleep. And there's poor Jack, waiting all morning just for someone to say hello to him.

I've been back & forth to the Humane Society, checked Craigslist, the Advertiser classifieds, & even Kijiji. If I wanted a pit bull or some chihuahua mix I could have an entire pack of dogs by now. Apparently chihuahuas have a lot of sex. Ideally I'd like an Akita or a Chow (as with Basenjis, Chows are one of the breeds I've determined I will own one of in this lifetime.), & was saddened to hear of Henry Kapali's retirement from Akitas; damn his neighbors.

My vet gave me a list of breeders. I've got to remember this some time during daytime hours so I can make some phone calls.

Plumb.

2008-04-26T03:39:00.018-10:00

I find new music in all kinds of ways.

A couple of weeks ago I was shopping in Longs & was arrested by the overhead music. I ended up stopping under a speaker & memorizing some lyrics, which I then Googled when I got home.

And so I discovered Christian/Rock/Dance singer Plumb, mother of 3 in Nashville. Her voice makes me think of Amy Lee channeling Sarah McLachlan. Naturally, I bought her current CD, Blink, which contained another very likeable song, "Always." The video here is for "In My Arms," which first caught my ear in Longs, but the images there are from some video put together by a fan. Looks like an interesting show though.

The rest of the songs on Blink were nice, but this is a 2-song CD for me.

At her MySpace I listened to another song from an earlier CD, "Cut." Unlike the majority of her songs on Blink which are obviously sung to her kids, "Cut" is apparently about self abuse. Her vocals are quite haunting; the CD (Chaotic Resolve) arrived today. Chaotic Resolve was a great first listen pretty much in its entirety. It's high energy, strong vocals girl stuff; I especially liked "Real Life Fairytale."

At right is the official video for "Cut." A little lacking in volume, but you can turn it up.

In other news, my remastered copy of Avalon arrived, & is not only remastered... it's a hybrid SACD! Quite frankly, though, it doesn't sound anywhere near as good as my 30th Anniversary Dark Side of the Moon. Well, I suppose there are CDs & then there are CDs. If the original AAD was shitty enough, I don't imagine anyone could remaster it sufficient to make it sound like magic. Ah, Bryan Ferry. I love him. I need better speakers.

And then my Fiction Plane arrived as well. This is Sting's son's band, & Cathy & I saw them opening at that epic concert in February. I haven't opened this one yet; you can't rush music listening.

I guess they kinda sound like The Police. Joe Sumner definitely sounds like his dad.

I'm just kicking myself over & over again because I can't believe I missed the Lifehouse show at Pipeline. Dammit dammit dammit. I just plain old forgot. Someone please kick my ass.

My hibiscus.

2008-04-25T02:30:00.003-10:00

Here's a bloom from one of several hibiscus bushes I grew from seed back when... I think I must have been in high school.

I pollinated a single white hibiscus with a single pink/red hibiscus. And somehow got this double with a frilled filament. There are a couple other surviving hybrids in my grandparents' yard, each one a little different from the other in color. Unfortunately hybrids are usually sterile, so there won't be any seeds coming from these guys, although slips can be made.

Sometimes I wonder if my creations were humans rather than flowers, if they would be grotesquely twisted mutants rather than rare & delicate specials. Sometimes I also think I should have gone into botany.

Why did I do it though?

I seem to recall at the time feeling that the plants in our yard, at least, were getting a lot of sex.

You think I'm joking.

Oh, it's peculiar

2008-04-24T00:51:00.001-10:00

Heh, apparently it's my birthday, according to the message I got at 12:30 tonight from Lisa & some others.

Blogchex went down without warning a few days ago. I shoulda known. I totally shoulda known. Chavvon Smith had reassured me by email that my blog was safe, but this was when I got nervous because Blogchex had been in Alpha for over a year. Did I back up any of my stuff? No. Should I have known? Yes. Am I an idiot? Screw you. Yes.

Maybe it's a message. I just deleted my MySpace last month. All those carefully accumulated self-aggrandizing bits of data, gone. I didn't even bother to take a look at what I would be depriving the world of. But The Long Way Home... oh, my literary masterpieces of sarcasm & wit! Gone, Daddy, gone! I'll have to find a new place to justify my existence now.

Maybe Blogger is safe. You think?