Another one bites the dust.
Everyone's favorite Caublasian, Tiger Woods, has joined the ranks of professional athletes who enjoy a side salad on occasion. People seem totally surprised, not because of his squeaky clean image but because the golf club swinging Mrs. Woods is a gorgeous blonde. (Now, I hate to stoop to the gutter but I can't resist sharing this joke I heard on the radio. What does Tiger Woods have in common with a baby seal? They both get clubbed by Norwegians.) It's like if she was a toad, it would be understandable but who cheats on someone who could easily pass for one of Hugh Hefner's rotating aryan girlfriends? That is the kind of woman you cheat WITH not cheat ON - or so says the pundits on every news channel on TV.
I am stunned by how much analysis is going on about this whole issue, mostly about the women involved in the scandal. There was a discussion on CNN about the commonality amongst skanks who get involved in affairs with high profile men. The argument was they are all "exotic in appearance" (if you consider blonde highlights and spray-tans mystical), are involved in "careers" that are not very mentally challenging and have enhanced their chesticles in some manner. So, if you are a big boobed cocktail waitress with a bleach job who hangs out by the hotel pool all day, chances are you will snag yourself a married basketball player as your secret lover. If you don't have the tan but have all the other aspects, you will become George Clooney's flavor of the day.
The spotlight now has turned from the mistresses to the Mommys. Tiger's mom and mother-in-law were apparently at the scene of the accident and if you listen closely to the 9-11 call, you can hear Tiger's mom's voice in the background. Well, at least it is assumed to be Tiger's mom by the media since the voice has an accent. You know, all of us Yellow folk sound like Hop Sing on Bonanza, especially under stress. Speculation is running rampant on why Mama Tiger and MIL were at the house.
Now, being an Asian Mama myself, I would not only have given the golf club to Elin, I would have grabbed my own 5-iron and socked my kid in his eggroll! Even if Mom was less than thrilled that Tiger brought home an Elin and not an Emiko, once those kidlets were popped out, they became the priority. You know how Okaasans are when it comes to preserving the home that their grandchildren live in. Yellow Mom may love you but once you give her grandchildren, you no longer exist in the pantheon of adoration. You were only born so you could someday give your mom a grandchild, kind of like that kid who was conceived so she could donate a kidney to a sibling. Your only purpose of being conceived by Mom and Dad were to someday be a surrogate or sperm donor to create your Mom's grandchild. Once those grandbabies are here, your only worth to your parents is to pick up what they want from Costco since they don't want to shell out money to buy their own memberships.
Someone on CNN said the reason so many well-known celebrities cheat (even if they are married to drop dead gorgeous women( comes down to opportunity, they simply have more cho-cho offered to them for free than the average Joe. It's like finding a dollar on the street. Some people may not pick it up because it is dirty and they don't know where it's been. Other people may only pick it up after making sure it doesn't belong to anyone. Some people may just leave it there because they are happy with the money they have in their wallets. Some people are so oblivious to other things they may not even know it is there. Now, imagine you are walking down the street and it starts RAINING dollar bills and you are the only person around. Wouldn't you be tempted to take at least one, figuring nobody will ever know? Of course, there are some who would grab the nearest huge net and pick up every fricking dollar bill in sight. Would it really matter if you have $10 in your wallet when there are hundreds off $1 bills floating around?
Why is it that we don't hear as many stories about famous married women being caught in torrid affairs? All we hear are reports of formerly-straight female celebs who are coming out as lesbians. Kelly McGillis from Top Gun and (gasp now), Meredith Baxter Birney of Family Ties and every Lifetime Movie of the Week that involves killing your husband. Yes, Alex P. Keaton's Mom is gay (as was the late Mr. Brady in case you have been living in a cave for the past 30 years).
I guess for females, once you go back hair, you never go back there.
Sunday, December 6, 2009
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
Taco Bell Mo' Bettah
The family has been on a major Jones for Mexican food recently. This has been fueled by Oscar the Grouch's penchant for buying anything from any store within a 20 mile radius from home that is listed on the Star Bulletin's Bidding Advantage promotion. He learned the hard way to stick to gift certificates for food as the items that dealt with in kind stuff never worked out. He'd either forget to pick up the voucher at the Star Bulletin or it would turn out to be something we really never used. One year, he bought a $200 gift certificate for Aiea Bowl thinking it could be used for food at the Alley Restaurant (we were heavily into the Lemon Crunch Cake back then). I think we used it one time and it went into storage for a year or so. Thank goodness, the Mad Cow ended up joining a league so we can now use the card. We did finally use it up at his cosmic bowling birthday party in September.
The most recent purchases were for KFC (used at one trip since the Professor ate 2 of those Famous Bowls and the Diva had a large box of wings. Throw in those funky drinks and the $50 went up in smoke) and for Caliente del Sol at the Safeway Kapahulu mini-mall. We used up most of it but still had $20 leftover. It expired today and I knew $20 would not cover the three' kids meals (let alone 5 of us) so I decided to use it on lunch for my friend and co-worker AS and myself.
I called in the order at 11:00 am and was told that the menu had just changed that morning. AS is a vegetarian and I'm trying to be one again so I asked them what they had that was veggie. The answer I got was "NOTHING" (albeit a very polite nothing). The person asked me to hold and he would see if they could do anything vegetarian. He came back and said they could make us a veggie burrito which was basically a regular burrito without meat. Since we had no other choice, I ordered two of the burritos and said I'd pick them up at 1 pm.
I got there at 1 pm and was told that my order wasn't there. In fact, nobody knew where the order form was for the order. They did remember that I called because it was "way too early". I should have known that was not a good sign. Here they had screwed up and were blaming me for not calling in my order in a timely manner.
After digging through their stack of receipts, they finally found our order but nothing had been written down. All it said was two burritos. There was some discussion on what a vegetarian burrito was before the staff came to the consensus that they would make a regular burrito but just leave the meat off. It would have been hilarious if I wasn't already kind of irked about the whole thing. Listening to them was like listening to that Rap Replinger bit about "Cheeseburga' wit' or without cheese?" "Oh, Cheeseburga' wit' one side orda cheese."
Since our order came out to $13, I was told they would not give me back the change. As the certificate expired today, I said I would just order something else. I ordered cheese nachos which we have had in the past from the place and it was HUGE. The three kids would share an order and leave about half of it. It was that much food. That putmy total at $20.91.
They did offer to give me a free soda for the hassle but I passed on that and went to Safeway to kill time. When I got back, my order was up but without the sauces. I had to wait for that to be taken care of (Ranchero for AS and Chili Verde for me).
When I got to work and opened my box, it was really disappointing and I kind of felt ripped off. There were 5 Dorito-sized tortilla chips (yes, I counted) and a green salad that looked like and was the size of the lettuce that sits on a Big Mac. It was really awful and pathetic looking, like what you'd see sitting on the plate of someone who had finished eating. The burrito was 90% rice, 5% beans (not refried but canned chili beans) and a few pieces of undercooked zucchini and eggplant. It was like eating a musubi in a tortilla - very bland and very rice-y. I had to literally pour on the sauce for it to have any flavor. The burrito was $5.99 which seemed like a deal on paper but was a total rip off. I could have gotten a $1.49 musubi from 7-11 which had the same amount of rice and much more flavor. I really felt like I had wasted $5 (make that $10 on two).
What was even more upsetting was the box of greasy chips that were passed off as cheese nachos ($6.99). My best guess is that the styrofoam box held maybe 2 cups of chips if even that. Again, the chips seemed like they had come out of a bag from Sam's Club or something, they were clearly not fresh or made there. There was maybe a tablespoon or two of melted cheese (again, totally flavorless and clearly from a bulk bag of cheapy stuff), a teeny dollop of sour cream and a pinch of something green which I am assuming was guacamole. Again, a total rip off. The kids usually scarf these down without breathing but they each ate one chip and put the box down "for the dog" (who also did not eat the chips that were left for her on the ground. Rip off of the entire amount of money.
I am glad that I used the whole gift certificate since I never want to eat there again. It was undoubtedly the most unpleasant meal I have had in ages. Even with it being theoretically half off since Oscar bought $50 of gift certificate for $25, I still feel like it was a rip off. I wouldn't have paid even $5 for that meal. Like I said, I would have gotten a musubi and some of that crank out velveeta nachos from 7-11 and been much happier and not felt as financially violated.
My guess is that in less than amonth, this place will be gone. Normally, I feel saddened when a small business in my neighborhood has to shut its doors but with this place, it will be better for everyone.
As my hairdresser said this weekend, "you know a Mexican place is bad when the food from Taco Bell is much more better."
Hey, compared to this place, Taco Bell is at Alan Wong's level.
The most recent purchases were for KFC (used at one trip since the Professor ate 2 of those Famous Bowls and the Diva had a large box of wings. Throw in those funky drinks and the $50 went up in smoke) and for Caliente del Sol at the Safeway Kapahulu mini-mall. We used up most of it but still had $20 leftover. It expired today and I knew $20 would not cover the three' kids meals (let alone 5 of us) so I decided to use it on lunch for my friend and co-worker AS and myself.
I called in the order at 11:00 am and was told that the menu had just changed that morning. AS is a vegetarian and I'm trying to be one again so I asked them what they had that was veggie. The answer I got was "NOTHING" (albeit a very polite nothing). The person asked me to hold and he would see if they could do anything vegetarian. He came back and said they could make us a veggie burrito which was basically a regular burrito without meat. Since we had no other choice, I ordered two of the burritos and said I'd pick them up at 1 pm.
I got there at 1 pm and was told that my order wasn't there. In fact, nobody knew where the order form was for the order. They did remember that I called because it was "way too early". I should have known that was not a good sign. Here they had screwed up and were blaming me for not calling in my order in a timely manner.
After digging through their stack of receipts, they finally found our order but nothing had been written down. All it said was two burritos. There was some discussion on what a vegetarian burrito was before the staff came to the consensus that they would make a regular burrito but just leave the meat off. It would have been hilarious if I wasn't already kind of irked about the whole thing. Listening to them was like listening to that Rap Replinger bit about "Cheeseburga' wit' or without cheese?" "Oh, Cheeseburga' wit' one side orda cheese."
Since our order came out to $13, I was told they would not give me back the change. As the certificate expired today, I said I would just order something else. I ordered cheese nachos which we have had in the past from the place and it was HUGE. The three kids would share an order and leave about half of it. It was that much food. That putmy total at $20.91.
They did offer to give me a free soda for the hassle but I passed on that and went to Safeway to kill time. When I got back, my order was up but without the sauces. I had to wait for that to be taken care of (Ranchero for AS and Chili Verde for me).
When I got to work and opened my box, it was really disappointing and I kind of felt ripped off. There were 5 Dorito-sized tortilla chips (yes, I counted) and a green salad that looked like and was the size of the lettuce that sits on a Big Mac. It was really awful and pathetic looking, like what you'd see sitting on the plate of someone who had finished eating. The burrito was 90% rice, 5% beans (not refried but canned chili beans) and a few pieces of undercooked zucchini and eggplant. It was like eating a musubi in a tortilla - very bland and very rice-y. I had to literally pour on the sauce for it to have any flavor. The burrito was $5.99 which seemed like a deal on paper but was a total rip off. I could have gotten a $1.49 musubi from 7-11 which had the same amount of rice and much more flavor. I really felt like I had wasted $5 (make that $10 on two).
What was even more upsetting was the box of greasy chips that were passed off as cheese nachos ($6.99). My best guess is that the styrofoam box held maybe 2 cups of chips if even that. Again, the chips seemed like they had come out of a bag from Sam's Club or something, they were clearly not fresh or made there. There was maybe a tablespoon or two of melted cheese (again, totally flavorless and clearly from a bulk bag of cheapy stuff), a teeny dollop of sour cream and a pinch of something green which I am assuming was guacamole. Again, a total rip off. The kids usually scarf these down without breathing but they each ate one chip and put the box down "for the dog" (who also did not eat the chips that were left for her on the ground. Rip off of the entire amount of money.
I am glad that I used the whole gift certificate since I never want to eat there again. It was undoubtedly the most unpleasant meal I have had in ages. Even with it being theoretically half off since Oscar bought $50 of gift certificate for $25, I still feel like it was a rip off. I wouldn't have paid even $5 for that meal. Like I said, I would have gotten a musubi and some of that crank out velveeta nachos from 7-11 and been much happier and not felt as financially violated.
My guess is that in less than amonth, this place will be gone. Normally, I feel saddened when a small business in my neighborhood has to shut its doors but with this place, it will be better for everyone.
As my hairdresser said this weekend, "you know a Mexican place is bad when the food from Taco Bell is much more better."
Hey, compared to this place, Taco Bell is at Alan Wong's level.
Thursday, November 26, 2009
Thank Heaven for Big Dead Cows
We had a very untraditional Thanksgiving lunch at the new Wolfgang Steakhouse at the Royal Hawaiian Shopping Center. As I explained in my earlier post, we found this place after aimlessly searching for a dining alternative to the mysteriously closed Cheesecake Factory. I though the restaurant was another Wolfgang Puck joint but Oscar the Grouch explained that it was actually the brainchild of a Wofgang Zweiner, former chef at Peter Luger's Steakhouse, a venerated NY place that he spends hours waxing nostalgic about to all of us. The kids were not impressed until they realized that every Travel Channel chef from Anthony Bourdain to Adam the Man vs. Food guy features Peter Luger when they go to NY.
It was a very beautiful and classically chic restaurant but without any sense of snobbery. We were dressed in our usual boroboro splendor - jeans, t-shirt, toothpaste on the corners of our mouths, makapiapia in the eyes - yet we were welcomed warmly by the staff. In fact, everyone was dressed pretty casually - nice than Zippy's but not as nice as Alan Wong's. There were a large number of local families with kids there too. That was a surprise.
As we looked at the menu, we felt bad that the Professor wasn't with us. We knew he would LOVE to eat there. So, we decided we would take him a menu and our leftovers.
The lunch menu featured soups (clam chowder or lobster bisque), salads (meat and seafood heavy), appetizers, 3 kinds of sandwiches, all kind of dead cow entrees, grilled chicken, rigatoni bolognese and aingel hair pasta with pesto (the only vegetarian entree). The least expensive entree was the pasta ($17) and the most expensive was the cajun rib eye and the petite filet mignon ($28). The beef included one side dish from an incredibly extensive list including cream corn, spinach done three ways, asparagus, steak fries, jumbo baked potato, sauteed mushrooms, onion rings, and lobster mac and cheese.
Oscar had the cajun rib eye ($28) and I had the NY sirloin steak sandwich ($20). We chose creamed spinach for Oscar's side and also ordered the German potatoes which the waiter described as "hash brown"-like sauteed in butter, onions and garlic. Oscar also opted to have a bowl of clam chowder instead of the lobster bisque. He had a glass of the house red (Coppola at $13 which is the cost of a bottle at Safeway) and I had a glass of the house riesling which wasn't as sickening sugary sweet as I usually like. It was very smooth though.
They brought out a bread basket with slices of french bread and some soft and fluffy onion rolls that I would kill to get more of. Oscar is usually not someone to pig out on bread when we go out to dinner but even he raved about the onion rolls. I kept thinking how great it would be to have those rolls with a bowl full of loco moco gravy to dip it in. So local, huh? The only bad thing was the onion pieces that fell off the bread and looked like squashed black ticks on the pristine white tablecloths.
Oscar's chowder came and it was huge. It would have been a meal for anyone alone. It was very chunky with big pieces of clam. The Diva would have LOVED it (and probably would have had two bowls).
When the dead cow came to the table, we were totally in awe. The portions were huge! There was a platter of German fries - not a plate but a big platter! There was a good 2-3 cups of spinach and I must have had 4 or 5 potatoes full of fries along with four gigantic onion rings. Good crispy non-greasy onion rings with sweet onions. Even the lettuce and tomato for my sandwich were extremely fresh and crisp. Oscar ate them separately from his sandwich since they were so good. The creamed spinach was also onolicious with a creamy mouthfeel but without any heaviness. It was surreal since it felt so filling but wasn't fatty.
The steak sandwich was gigantic. I gave 1/2 to Oscar and only finished 1/2 of my 1/2. There must have been about a pound of steak. It was so flavorful and soft. I don't think I said a word, just moaned out loud like Meg Ryan in the Katz' Deli scene in "When Harry Met Sally". It wat that good. Did I have even a tinge of vegetarian guilt over consuming one of Buddha's creatures? Hell to the no, it was that great.
Oscar's cajun rib eye was very tender and again, key word was soft. We couldn't help saying, "It was like buttah...." because it was! It just melted in your mouth. You almost didn't have to chew and you kind of didn't want to. You just wanted to keep it there for a while to enjoy the taste and texture. What was amazing is that Oscar had ordered it medium-well since I don't like it bloody and usually, we end up with something charred and tough. But this was as smooth as silk. We only ate about 1/4 of the rib eye and didn't even make a dent in the German potatoes but the spinach was a goner.
Our whole family are creme brulee devotees so even though we were stuffed we ordered dessert. At first I thought there was dirt on the bottom of the creme brulee container but Oscar realized it was real vanilla bean! Every bit was heaven - a mix of the brulee, a slight hint of citrus and an end note of vanilla. Wow. We even thought about asking for a doggy bag for the leftover dessert to share with the kids but then, got greedy and ate the whole thing.
Our total for lunch with drinks, appetizer and two entrees was $105.00. When we all go to Genki Sushi we usually end up spending between $60-70 and an hour later, the kids are asking for saimin. So this was a deal. Plus, we have enough food leftover for anyone who doesn't want turkey tonight.
We are already planning to take the kids for dinner - maybe for Christmas or near New Years. I can imagine it would be great at night since the restaurant looks out onto Kalakaua.
We'll just go to temple in the morning and ask Buddha to forgive us for our indiscretions....
It was a very beautiful and classically chic restaurant but without any sense of snobbery. We were dressed in our usual boroboro splendor - jeans, t-shirt, toothpaste on the corners of our mouths, makapiapia in the eyes - yet we were welcomed warmly by the staff. In fact, everyone was dressed pretty casually - nice than Zippy's but not as nice as Alan Wong's. There were a large number of local families with kids there too. That was a surprise.
As we looked at the menu, we felt bad that the Professor wasn't with us. We knew he would LOVE to eat there. So, we decided we would take him a menu and our leftovers.
The lunch menu featured soups (clam chowder or lobster bisque), salads (meat and seafood heavy), appetizers, 3 kinds of sandwiches, all kind of dead cow entrees, grilled chicken, rigatoni bolognese and aingel hair pasta with pesto (the only vegetarian entree). The least expensive entree was the pasta ($17) and the most expensive was the cajun rib eye and the petite filet mignon ($28). The beef included one side dish from an incredibly extensive list including cream corn, spinach done three ways, asparagus, steak fries, jumbo baked potato, sauteed mushrooms, onion rings, and lobster mac and cheese.
Oscar had the cajun rib eye ($28) and I had the NY sirloin steak sandwich ($20). We chose creamed spinach for Oscar's side and also ordered the German potatoes which the waiter described as "hash brown"-like sauteed in butter, onions and garlic. Oscar also opted to have a bowl of clam chowder instead of the lobster bisque. He had a glass of the house red (Coppola at $13 which is the cost of a bottle at Safeway) and I had a glass of the house riesling which wasn't as sickening sugary sweet as I usually like. It was very smooth though.
They brought out a bread basket with slices of french bread and some soft and fluffy onion rolls that I would kill to get more of. Oscar is usually not someone to pig out on bread when we go out to dinner but even he raved about the onion rolls. I kept thinking how great it would be to have those rolls with a bowl full of loco moco gravy to dip it in. So local, huh? The only bad thing was the onion pieces that fell off the bread and looked like squashed black ticks on the pristine white tablecloths.
Oscar's chowder came and it was huge. It would have been a meal for anyone alone. It was very chunky with big pieces of clam. The Diva would have LOVED it (and probably would have had two bowls).
When the dead cow came to the table, we were totally in awe. The portions were huge! There was a platter of German fries - not a plate but a big platter! There was a good 2-3 cups of spinach and I must have had 4 or 5 potatoes full of fries along with four gigantic onion rings. Good crispy non-greasy onion rings with sweet onions. Even the lettuce and tomato for my sandwich were extremely fresh and crisp. Oscar ate them separately from his sandwich since they were so good. The creamed spinach was also onolicious with a creamy mouthfeel but without any heaviness. It was surreal since it felt so filling but wasn't fatty.
The steak sandwich was gigantic. I gave 1/2 to Oscar and only finished 1/2 of my 1/2. There must have been about a pound of steak. It was so flavorful and soft. I don't think I said a word, just moaned out loud like Meg Ryan in the Katz' Deli scene in "When Harry Met Sally". It wat that good. Did I have even a tinge of vegetarian guilt over consuming one of Buddha's creatures? Hell to the no, it was that great.
Oscar's cajun rib eye was very tender and again, key word was soft. We couldn't help saying, "It was like buttah...." because it was! It just melted in your mouth. You almost didn't have to chew and you kind of didn't want to. You just wanted to keep it there for a while to enjoy the taste and texture. What was amazing is that Oscar had ordered it medium-well since I don't like it bloody and usually, we end up with something charred and tough. But this was as smooth as silk. We only ate about 1/4 of the rib eye and didn't even make a dent in the German potatoes but the spinach was a goner.
Our whole family are creme brulee devotees so even though we were stuffed we ordered dessert. At first I thought there was dirt on the bottom of the creme brulee container but Oscar realized it was real vanilla bean! Every bit was heaven - a mix of the brulee, a slight hint of citrus and an end note of vanilla. Wow. We even thought about asking for a doggy bag for the leftover dessert to share with the kids but then, got greedy and ate the whole thing.
Our total for lunch with drinks, appetizer and two entrees was $105.00. When we all go to Genki Sushi we usually end up spending between $60-70 and an hour later, the kids are asking for saimin. So this was a deal. Plus, we have enough food leftover for anyone who doesn't want turkey tonight.
We are already planning to take the kids for dinner - maybe for Christmas or near New Years. I can imagine it would be great at night since the restaurant looks out onto Kalakaua.
We'll just go to temple in the morning and ask Buddha to forgive us for our indiscretions....
Walking in a Waikiki Wonderland
Maybe it is just middle-aged malaise but today is just another day off of work to me. Oscar the Grouch and I were trying to remember when we last hosted a Thanksgiving dinner at our house. When we had just the twins and one dog, we always had a big get-together at our house. We would try a different "turkey-to-go" package from a hotel or restaurant and have a household of friends over for dinner. The tradition always included a huge tupperware container of stained glass jello from my friend IY, at least 4 different handmade desserts by my other friend AN and cupcakes fabulousely decorated by another friend TJ. There were always kids barreling around and lots of wine-a-flowing. It was always a very diverse group of people with an international buffet of food. I remember thinking that there was probably no where in the world where such a rainbow of people was gathered.
Once Mad Cow came along, it seemed that there was no free time to plan a Thanksgiving get-together, to do our annual pre-Turkey day week of cleaning, or even just to call people or e=mail invitations. When TJ and her family moved to New York and AN passed away, it felt like the heart of the celebration was gone. Even when we'd have small gatherings, you felt the void of their absences. To me, it was just too much to bear. It's strange but it was comforting for me to spend time with just the immediate family (plus Mom, Dad and Jun) on Thanksgiving instead of floating in a sea of missing loved ones.
When we added Tiger to the family, that kind of put the nail in the Thanksgiving party coffin since lots of the kids (and even the moms) are pit-bully phobic. When we added rats in the basement, that poured cement over the nailed coffin.
So, tonight it will just be us at my parents' house, sans dogs but possibly with jello since IY lives across the street from my Mom and Dad. No turkey-to-go since my Dad is into seeing how big a free turkey he can get every year. My only assignment was to bring dessert.
Oscar and I are always last minute people so we set off today to pick up pies. The request was for pumpkin and apple. Knowing my penchant for being abnormal, I came up with the brilliant idea to pick up dessert from and have breakfast at the Cheesecake Factory at the Royal Hawaiian Hotel. The kids were at my parents' so we asked them if they wanted to go but they said no.
The first thing we noticed as we headed into Waikiki was how dead the streets were. No traffic at all and very few tourists. It was really depressing.
We parked and walked over to the Cheesecake Factory (after Oscar had a road rage moment with a Roberts' Hawaii tour bus). It was about 10:30 am. A news crew with Denby Fawcett was out in front looking to interview people with shopping bags. They were having a difficult time finding people since everyone was empty handed. The restaurant didn't open until 11 am so we made tourist and walked around to kill time.
I wanted to go to the Chip and Cookie store to buy cookies. If you don't know, that is where you can buy cookies by the artist formerly known as Famous Amos. This is a nostalgic smell to me since I used to drive to the Famous Amos store on Keeaumoku when I first got my license. That was back when Mr. Amos was still Famous and was the one actually making the cookies. I would buy a bag of the butterscotch chips and a coke and sit in my car and feed the teenage emotional monster that lived deep in the pit of my stomach. Yes, I know, eat your feelings, girl!
Unfortunately, we were behind a customer who bought everything in pink in the shop and was being helped by a salesperson who did not know how to ring up anything that was not made of flour. Again, after waiting about 10 minutes, we decided to leave. At least I did see the real Mr. Amos on the first floor where he was hawking cookies like the old days.
Of course, we went to the Apple Store even though I swore to Oscar that I could resist it. The Apple Store to me is like a crack den to a crack 'ho. I have to get a fix even though I have no money to buy anything. Everything was so nice and shiny! The place was full of people - mostly LOCALS which kind of threw us off. I began to contemplate whether we should pay the $23,000 tuition bill next month and give the kids socks or buy them a nice present and inform them they have to be home-schooled come January. Then Oscar started to mutter about how the salesperson was full-of-s**t saying that you could buy something today and if it went on sale on Black Friday, they would honor that price. I knew that meant he was hungry.
I am still enraptured with the new I-Phone and the fancy docking stations that are so tiny. Right now, I use a $9 Hannah Montana one that I got on clearance at Best Buy. It is stashed in my kitchen behind my rice pot, my hidden shame. The sound is good though and on those rare occasions when I do cook dinner, it does keep me entertained and bopping around.
We went back to the Cheesecake Factory at about 10:50 and waited for it to open. We talked story with some tourists about how awful parents are these days (Oscar was wearing a shirt I got for him from Vegas that said, "Volunteer Parent, I'll slap your kid since you won't") and kept waiting, waiting, waiting. A line of over 50 people formed. What amazed us was how many tourists just ignored the line of people and went to the front door trying to open it. I mean, there is a long line of folks obviously waiting to go in and you just go to the front and try to open the doors! Luckily, it was heavily Japanese tourist so people were not hostile. Can you imagine if someone tried that tonight at the Toys R Us line? Dead meat.
At 11:20, nobody had emerged from Cheesecake Factory and it did not look like they were going to open. There were no signs saying they were closed nor did anyone come out to explain why they were closed. We decided to leave and find somewhere else to eat. Being local folks (well, 1-1/2 local anyway), we had no idea where to go so we walked back towards the
Jimmy Buffet's Margaritaville place was right across the street so we walked across Kalakaua to see the menu. It took us a while to figure out how to enter the place since all you see is the retail shop. It turned out you have to enter to the left of the store and take an escalator to the next floor. The menu consisted of things heavily fried and tex-mexy. Not exactly what we wanted. Plus, the ambiance was pool-side beach chair un-chic.
We left and noticed that the line was gone from Cheesecake Factory but they were definitely closed. So, we thought we would eat at Panya, get the parking validation and leave. We didn't even go in since Oscar saw that the sandwiches were $13! He said it would be cheaper to pay for the parking.
Since we didn't know where to eat, we decided we would go to Borders Express to buy a paper or to ABC Drugs for a soda to get the parking validation. We went upstairs to the 2nd floor and discovered that they have a new food court there. Another local family behind us said loudly as we went up the elevator, "Hooray, Panda Express!" Clearly, they too had been wandering in search of food. It was a very impressive food court with Paradise Cafe, Maui Tacos, Ezogiku, Kenny's Hawaiian BBQ (yes, the Kam Shopping Center Kenny's), something called Monkey's and some burger place. If we couldn't find a place to sit down and be served, we would return and have ramen at Ezogiku.
We were looking for the Okonomiyaki place when we saw people standing in front of a menu. It was for W Steakhouse. We were going to go there earlier to see if we could find amenu for the Professor since we figured it would be closed. But it was OPEN and the sandwiches were only $4 more than Panya.
I'll write about my lunch in another post. I was bummed that my phone was dead at home but happy that we could at least find a good place to eat after wandering around Waikiki for an hour.
Oh, by the way, the parking was FREE from 10 to 3 so we didn't have to wander around looking for a validation.
Once Mad Cow came along, it seemed that there was no free time to plan a Thanksgiving get-together, to do our annual pre-Turkey day week of cleaning, or even just to call people or e=mail invitations. When TJ and her family moved to New York and AN passed away, it felt like the heart of the celebration was gone. Even when we'd have small gatherings, you felt the void of their absences. To me, it was just too much to bear. It's strange but it was comforting for me to spend time with just the immediate family (plus Mom, Dad and Jun) on Thanksgiving instead of floating in a sea of missing loved ones.
When we added Tiger to the family, that kind of put the nail in the Thanksgiving party coffin since lots of the kids (and even the moms) are pit-bully phobic. When we added rats in the basement, that poured cement over the nailed coffin.
So, tonight it will just be us at my parents' house, sans dogs but possibly with jello since IY lives across the street from my Mom and Dad. No turkey-to-go since my Dad is into seeing how big a free turkey he can get every year. My only assignment was to bring dessert.
Oscar and I are always last minute people so we set off today to pick up pies. The request was for pumpkin and apple. Knowing my penchant for being abnormal, I came up with the brilliant idea to pick up dessert from and have breakfast at the Cheesecake Factory at the Royal Hawaiian Hotel. The kids were at my parents' so we asked them if they wanted to go but they said no.
The first thing we noticed as we headed into Waikiki was how dead the streets were. No traffic at all and very few tourists. It was really depressing.
We parked and walked over to the Cheesecake Factory (after Oscar had a road rage moment with a Roberts' Hawaii tour bus). It was about 10:30 am. A news crew with Denby Fawcett was out in front looking to interview people with shopping bags. They were having a difficult time finding people since everyone was empty handed. The restaurant didn't open until 11 am so we made tourist and walked around to kill time.
I wanted to go to the Chip and Cookie store to buy cookies. If you don't know, that is where you can buy cookies by the artist formerly known as Famous Amos. This is a nostalgic smell to me since I used to drive to the Famous Amos store on Keeaumoku when I first got my license. That was back when Mr. Amos was still Famous and was the one actually making the cookies. I would buy a bag of the butterscotch chips and a coke and sit in my car and feed the teenage emotional monster that lived deep in the pit of my stomach. Yes, I know, eat your feelings, girl!
Unfortunately, we were behind a customer who bought everything in pink in the shop and was being helped by a salesperson who did not know how to ring up anything that was not made of flour. Again, after waiting about 10 minutes, we decided to leave. At least I did see the real Mr. Amos on the first floor where he was hawking cookies like the old days.
Of course, we went to the Apple Store even though I swore to Oscar that I could resist it. The Apple Store to me is like a crack den to a crack 'ho. I have to get a fix even though I have no money to buy anything. Everything was so nice and shiny! The place was full of people - mostly LOCALS which kind of threw us off. I began to contemplate whether we should pay the $23,000 tuition bill next month and give the kids socks or buy them a nice present and inform them they have to be home-schooled come January. Then Oscar started to mutter about how the salesperson was full-of-s**t saying that you could buy something today and if it went on sale on Black Friday, they would honor that price. I knew that meant he was hungry.
I am still enraptured with the new I-Phone and the fancy docking stations that are so tiny. Right now, I use a $9 Hannah Montana one that I got on clearance at Best Buy. It is stashed in my kitchen behind my rice pot, my hidden shame. The sound is good though and on those rare occasions when I do cook dinner, it does keep me entertained and bopping around.
We went back to the Cheesecake Factory at about 10:50 and waited for it to open. We talked story with some tourists about how awful parents are these days (Oscar was wearing a shirt I got for him from Vegas that said, "Volunteer Parent, I'll slap your kid since you won't") and kept waiting, waiting, waiting. A line of over 50 people formed. What amazed us was how many tourists just ignored the line of people and went to the front door trying to open it. I mean, there is a long line of folks obviously waiting to go in and you just go to the front and try to open the doors! Luckily, it was heavily Japanese tourist so people were not hostile. Can you imagine if someone tried that tonight at the Toys R Us line? Dead meat.
At 11:20, nobody had emerged from Cheesecake Factory and it did not look like they were going to open. There were no signs saying they were closed nor did anyone come out to explain why they were closed. We decided to leave and find somewhere else to eat. Being local folks (well, 1-1/2 local anyway), we had no idea where to go so we walked back towards the
Jimmy Buffet's Margaritaville place was right across the street so we walked across Kalakaua to see the menu. It took us a while to figure out how to enter the place since all you see is the retail shop. It turned out you have to enter to the left of the store and take an escalator to the next floor. The menu consisted of things heavily fried and tex-mexy. Not exactly what we wanted. Plus, the ambiance was pool-side beach chair un-chic.
We left and noticed that the line was gone from Cheesecake Factory but they were definitely closed. So, we thought we would eat at Panya, get the parking validation and leave. We didn't even go in since Oscar saw that the sandwiches were $13! He said it would be cheaper to pay for the parking.
Since we didn't know where to eat, we decided we would go to Borders Express to buy a paper or to ABC Drugs for a soda to get the parking validation. We went upstairs to the 2nd floor and discovered that they have a new food court there. Another local family behind us said loudly as we went up the elevator, "Hooray, Panda Express!" Clearly, they too had been wandering in search of food. It was a very impressive food court with Paradise Cafe, Maui Tacos, Ezogiku, Kenny's Hawaiian BBQ (yes, the Kam Shopping Center Kenny's), something called Monkey's and some burger place. If we couldn't find a place to sit down and be served, we would return and have ramen at Ezogiku.
We were looking for the Okonomiyaki place when we saw people standing in front of a menu. It was for W Steakhouse. We were going to go there earlier to see if we could find amenu for the Professor since we figured it would be closed. But it was OPEN and the sandwiches were only $4 more than Panya.
I'll write about my lunch in another post. I was bummed that my phone was dead at home but happy that we could at least find a good place to eat after wandering around Waikiki for an hour.
Oh, by the way, the parking was FREE from 10 to 3 so we didn't have to wander around looking for a validation.
Saturday, November 21, 2009
Back to the Future
Ever since I got back from Las Vegas, I have been waxing nostalgic about life when I was a carefree college student. I am trying to figure out what triggered this - I think it all started with Michael Jackson passing away. It is a really strange feeling that has enveloped me since he died. I just cannot accept it and I am wondering why I am taking it so personally. I mean, it's not like I knew him or even met him. The closest I ever got to him was being in the audience when the Jacksons came to play at the Blaisdell Center during the Destiny Tour (MJ was still black then but with a narrower white nose.)
I find myself craving things that have to do with that time in my life when I knew all of the choreography to Thriller (and didn't have three kids hysterically laughing behind me at my total lack of rhythm) and could wear a tube top without my chichis swinging low like those African ladies with the plates in their lips.
I have been reading a lot of biographies of people I admired when I was younger. I'm getting heavily back into The Police. I started reading Andy Summers' autobiography when I was in Vegas (along with a book on an Italian-American who became a part of Tokyo's yakuza society after WWII) and started on Stewart Copeland's autobiography today. I thumbed through a coffee table book on KISS fanzines while at Best Buy today and boy, that was a blast to the past. I actually bought some of those back in the day when I would run to the store to buy the latest issue of Creem Magazine to see if there was a photo of my favorite, Peter Criss the Cat Man that I could tack to my wall.
Of course, I am brought back to the reality of life today as I read Stewart's entry about the fundraising responsibilities that come with being the Dad of seven kids and how he and Gene Simmons performed for parents night at their kids' school. Every fantasy I have ever had about being Mrs. Stewart Copeland has been shattered knowing that if we ever got together, our blended family would have enough kids to garner our own TLC reality show.
I also spent last weekend watching a 3 hour documentary about Joe Strummer of the Clash and another 2 hour documentary about Keith Haring. I had to change the channel on the Keith Haring movie when the Diva came in since he was discussing why there are so many phallic images in his artwork (complete with illustrations). Almost bought a eco-CD of the Clash today but decided to do something nice and bought a Doobie Brothers eco-CD for my Mom instead. Actually, I was more interested to see what an eco-CD is and looked like than listening to music.
I did feel incredibly old when the kids were singing "Killing Me Softly" on the Wii and said it was a song by the "Foo-Gees". I had to remind them that yes, the song was done by the Fugees (prounounced like the Japanese mountains) but in the dark ages when I was young, it was orginally done by a talented singer called Roberta Flack. Not like they cared or anything. I thought I would go into a whole diatribe about the evolution of neo-soul from soul but I knew they didn't care at all.
I wonder what will be the pop culture heritage my children will tell my grandchildren about. "In my day, poor Taylor Swift was pushed to the side at the MTV awards by Kanye West...." "Remember when everyone switched from Roxy to Quicksilver?" "I was there the day Chocolate Rain was first played on YouTube." It seems so tragically inconsequential and immaterial.
I grew up on a diet of punk, ugly raw and powerful. I wanted to be edgy and nonconformist in the way I lived my life which has manifested in me being "the artsy mom" rather than the "anarchist artist" I aspired to be. I wanted to pierce my nose, wear black all the time and just be someone people want to avoid. Well, people do avoid me but it is because I am usually trying to sign them up to volunteer for a PTA event I am chairing.
However, I am planning to get two more tattoos next year....unfortunately, I have to get my kids' permission first.
Anarchy is a b-yatch.
I find myself craving things that have to do with that time in my life when I knew all of the choreography to Thriller (and didn't have three kids hysterically laughing behind me at my total lack of rhythm) and could wear a tube top without my chichis swinging low like those African ladies with the plates in their lips.
I have been reading a lot of biographies of people I admired when I was younger. I'm getting heavily back into The Police. I started reading Andy Summers' autobiography when I was in Vegas (along with a book on an Italian-American who became a part of Tokyo's yakuza society after WWII) and started on Stewart Copeland's autobiography today. I thumbed through a coffee table book on KISS fanzines while at Best Buy today and boy, that was a blast to the past. I actually bought some of those back in the day when I would run to the store to buy the latest issue of Creem Magazine to see if there was a photo of my favorite, Peter Criss the Cat Man that I could tack to my wall.
Of course, I am brought back to the reality of life today as I read Stewart's entry about the fundraising responsibilities that come with being the Dad of seven kids and how he and Gene Simmons performed for parents night at their kids' school. Every fantasy I have ever had about being Mrs. Stewart Copeland has been shattered knowing that if we ever got together, our blended family would have enough kids to garner our own TLC reality show.
I also spent last weekend watching a 3 hour documentary about Joe Strummer of the Clash and another 2 hour documentary about Keith Haring. I had to change the channel on the Keith Haring movie when the Diva came in since he was discussing why there are so many phallic images in his artwork (complete with illustrations). Almost bought a eco-CD of the Clash today but decided to do something nice and bought a Doobie Brothers eco-CD for my Mom instead. Actually, I was more interested to see what an eco-CD is and looked like than listening to music.
I did feel incredibly old when the kids were singing "Killing Me Softly" on the Wii and said it was a song by the "Foo-Gees". I had to remind them that yes, the song was done by the Fugees (prounounced like the Japanese mountains) but in the dark ages when I was young, it was orginally done by a talented singer called Roberta Flack. Not like they cared or anything. I thought I would go into a whole diatribe about the evolution of neo-soul from soul but I knew they didn't care at all.
I wonder what will be the pop culture heritage my children will tell my grandchildren about. "In my day, poor Taylor Swift was pushed to the side at the MTV awards by Kanye West...." "Remember when everyone switched from Roxy to Quicksilver?" "I was there the day Chocolate Rain was first played on YouTube." It seems so tragically inconsequential and immaterial.
I grew up on a diet of punk, ugly raw and powerful. I wanted to be edgy and nonconformist in the way I lived my life which has manifested in me being "the artsy mom" rather than the "anarchist artist" I aspired to be. I wanted to pierce my nose, wear black all the time and just be someone people want to avoid. Well, people do avoid me but it is because I am usually trying to sign them up to volunteer for a PTA event I am chairing.
However, I am planning to get two more tattoos next year....unfortunately, I have to get my kids' permission first.
Anarchy is a b-yatch.
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
Boyz in the Hood
On this eve of Veterans Day, it still seems surreal to me that we are in mourning over the killings at Fort Hood, TX. Killings that were done by one brother of his fellow brothers and sisters in the Army. Each day when I go to work, I see how deep and strong the bonds are between the soldiers. Even though the veterans I work for may have been in different companies or fought in different battles, they share a common history and experience that will forever keep them close. They may get into heated arguments over politics or the direction that their beloved club should take in the future but I know that even now, if they had to risk their lives for each other (or for any one of us in their 'ohana), they would do so without hesitancy or thought. Their minds would go into autopilot to a time nearly 70 years ago when it was their duty to not leave anyone behind. Even with the horrific combat experiences they have lived through - the carnage of war, witnessing the deaths of their friends, coping with PTSD - each one of them still maintains a strong sense of dignity, humanity, compassion and kindness. They are the first to tell you they are not heroes, they were just doing their jobs.
I do not think that back in WWII, the thought of being killed in cold blood by their fellow soldier would even have been fathomable. That kind of hazard was not even a consideration. From what they tell me, guys who "snapped" did not become violent or attack others. They simply went catatonic, curled up in fetal position and were on the first plane home.
As I listen to the reports on Fort Hood, I wonder how the boys of the 100th and 442nd who were subjected to the sorts of taunts and harassment as the Fort Hood Murderer managed to cope and keep their heads above the ugliness. To this day, when the veterans talk about experiencing racism and being called the J-word by Caucasian officers , they will always shed tears. The men who can speak of bloody battles without blinking an eye fall to pieces when they recall being the victims of racism. They can barely get though a sentence about these experiences without falling apart. So much for sticks and stones can break my bones but names can never hurt me.
What I fear though is another round of Muslim-phobia. The kids and I had a long discussion in the car today (yes, I know I am raising three militants. I keep having visions of my kids as Michael Evans in Good Times raising the black power fist ) about why criminals who are of color are always identified as such (Muslim-American, African-American, Latino) but this never seems to happen when the criminal is Caucasian. You know every little bit about the history of the Fort Hood Murderer, even what type of Islamic dogma he adhered to, but what do you know about the cultural or racial backgrounds of America's most notorious white criminals? What is Charlie Manson's ethnicity? Where did Jeffrey Dahmer's ancestors come from? If you are killing for Jesus, that seems plausible but if you have even a hint of non-Christianity in your background or an elevated melanin level in your genes, it's over.
When 9-11 occurred, I thought that living in Hawaii, anti-Muslim sentiment would not rise but I was wrong. We had a friend who fainted as she was exiting from an airplane. Rather than take her immediately for medical assistance, they kept her on board for a prolonged period of time, fearful that she was acting or was somehow plotting an act of terrorism under the guise of unconciousness. I don't think I even have to tell you that she is not white nor Asian nor Hispanic. She "looked Muslim" to the flight crew so she was automatically suspect.
We have to remember to blame the person, not his culture. He is evil, pure evil and that is that.
But more importantly, never forget the brave men and women of Fort Hood. Those who passed away, those who are injured, those who continue to serve our country in the face of such horror in their own home, those who support and love them.
Please thank any man or woman in uniform not just tomorrow but every chance that you get. Whether you support or oppose our current state of the military, we need to let them know that we support the people. I like to say that I am anti-War but pro-soldier.
I do not think that back in WWII, the thought of being killed in cold blood by their fellow soldier would even have been fathomable. That kind of hazard was not even a consideration. From what they tell me, guys who "snapped" did not become violent or attack others. They simply went catatonic, curled up in fetal position and were on the first plane home.
As I listen to the reports on Fort Hood, I wonder how the boys of the 100th and 442nd who were subjected to the sorts of taunts and harassment as the Fort Hood Murderer managed to cope and keep their heads above the ugliness. To this day, when the veterans talk about experiencing racism and being called the J-word by Caucasian officers , they will always shed tears. The men who can speak of bloody battles without blinking an eye fall to pieces when they recall being the victims of racism. They can barely get though a sentence about these experiences without falling apart. So much for sticks and stones can break my bones but names can never hurt me.
What I fear though is another round of Muslim-phobia. The kids and I had a long discussion in the car today (yes, I know I am raising three militants. I keep having visions of my kids as Michael Evans in Good Times raising the black power fist ) about why criminals who are of color are always identified as such (Muslim-American, African-American, Latino) but this never seems to happen when the criminal is Caucasian. You know every little bit about the history of the Fort Hood Murderer, even what type of Islamic dogma he adhered to, but what do you know about the cultural or racial backgrounds of America's most notorious white criminals? What is Charlie Manson's ethnicity? Where did Jeffrey Dahmer's ancestors come from? If you are killing for Jesus, that seems plausible but if you have even a hint of non-Christianity in your background or an elevated melanin level in your genes, it's over.
When 9-11 occurred, I thought that living in Hawaii, anti-Muslim sentiment would not rise but I was wrong. We had a friend who fainted as she was exiting from an airplane. Rather than take her immediately for medical assistance, they kept her on board for a prolonged period of time, fearful that she was acting or was somehow plotting an act of terrorism under the guise of unconciousness. I don't think I even have to tell you that she is not white nor Asian nor Hispanic. She "looked Muslim" to the flight crew so she was automatically suspect.
We have to remember to blame the person, not his culture. He is evil, pure evil and that is that.
But more importantly, never forget the brave men and women of Fort Hood. Those who passed away, those who are injured, those who continue to serve our country in the face of such horror in their own home, those who support and love them.
Please thank any man or woman in uniform not just tomorrow but every chance that you get. Whether you support or oppose our current state of the military, we need to let them know that we support the people. I like to say that I am anti-War but pro-soldier.
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
My Las Vegas List
Yes, I did come home from my Mommy Mental Break trip to Las Vegas. Yes, no kids, no husband, no dogs. I was surrounded by the "boys" from work though so it was still kind of like being around the kids, except I didn't have to buy anything from Nintendo and nobody monku-ed about how ghetto it was to stay at the California Hotel instead of on the Strip like normal people.
It was a great trip even with the LOOOOOOONG treks to my hotel room at the Cal and the Rio. Maybe it's just chubby paranoia but I had the room at the end of the hall at both places. Now, aside from the fat rash I got from my chunky daikon thighs rubbing together as I stuggled down the hall lugging my three suitcases (one full of persimmons, one full of Zoo York t-shirts, and one full of stuff for the dogs) and the lack of hot water at the Rio, I loved every minute of it. Well, I guess I should be accurate, I DID have hot water once I ran the two sinks and the shower full blast for 20 minutes. Not very green but at 5:30 am, who gives a poop about killing the earth.
The No More Homeless Pets Conference was life-changing. I was totally burned out on anything having to do with rescuing dogs before I left. Stepped down from writing articles, fostering or anything. I really felt like I could not spend one more minute helping anyone with four paws who was not already part of my family. The whole "one person cannot make a difference" cliche. However, after attending the Conference, I realize that even the smallest effort can result in a major change and even saving the life of one animal is worth the sacrifice. Maybe I was hormonal but all I did was cry at every workshop. The good thing was that everyone else in the sea of womenhood (my guess is that it was about 90% female, mostly middle aged white ladies) was also bawling whenever the power point featured a dog, cat or something furry.
Even the vegan food was good or maybe the 5 mile trek to the Conference Rooms made me so hungry, I would eat something healthy.
I am going to focus on working on the new Best Friends Campaign called "Pit Bulls, Saving America's Dogs". There was a fantastic presentation by Safe Humane Chicago on their youth ambassador, pit bull training and DAWG project (an advocacy group that monitors cases involving animal abuse). I am hoping to start something up like the DAWG project here so all of my fellow "retired" attorneys and judges, watch out. I'll draft you yet.
So, here's a short list of my Vegas Trip:
Best Breakfast - the Omelet House at the Plaza Hotel, Downtown. I got major tummy rumblings on Day 1 from pigging out on eggs benedict at the Main Street Station and vowed to stay away from Hollandaise Sauce for the next week. However, the Omelet House had a veggie benedict with fresh spinach and mushrooms and H-bomb sauce. It was delicious and the tummy kept it down all day long. Had to give in to the dark side and have a pancake too. Yes, I know you cannot use your Aloha Coupon but it really delicious. Super clean and very attentive and friendly staff.
Best Lunch - Vegetarian plate at Gaylord's at the Rio Hotel. This is a well-known Indian restaurant from San Francisco. I was trying to line up an appointment to get a tattoo at the Vince Neil Ink (yes, the Motley Crew blonde guy) by Sado, a tattoo artist from Hawaii, was with a client. Rather than run the marathon down to the Conference for a vegan lunch, I went to Gaylord's for lunch. Wow - three different vegetarian main dishes, basmati rice with saffron and four huge pieces of naan! Their sweet lassi was perfect - not too overwhelming and very refreshing. I was so tempted to box up the leftovers and carry it with me but I had another 5 hours or so of Conference to go. I wish I had gone to the Sunday brunch instead of the Rio Buffet. Maybe next time.
Best Dinner - BBQ Nachos from the Rub at the Rio. I know I will go to hell for eating swine after attending a No-Kill conference but I just couldn't resist. I keep seeing BBQ Nachos on Food Network so here it was in front of me. It must have weight about 5 pounds. You know you are in for a great meal when you have a 10 minute conversation with the hostess about funky reading glasses and where you should NOT get a tattoo. The Nachos had BBQ beans instead of refried, BBQ pulled pork instead of ground beef and BBQ sauce instead of salsa. It was even good totally ice cold when I was eating it at midnight while watching Anderson Cooper 360 reruns
Celebrity Sightings - Christopher Kale Jones from Hawaii after Jersey Boys (LN and I made major "big body" and got his autograph and took photos with him), the actor who played Vince in Jersey Boys who everyone IGNORED when we were swarming Chris Jones, Dr. Dan from Dogtown (very cute even when talking about the unique scent of a parvo infested BM),most of the trainers from Dogtown, Penn (very, very, very tall but very, very, very nice), Teller (who spoke and warned me not to let the Professor to go into magic but suggested a "normal" path). and the few dogs that were in the Popovich Pet Circus.
Big Bummer - I have been waiting for over a year to go to the Pet Circus and was bummed that the show featured a whole lot of humans and cats but was very light on dogs. Well, at least they were rescued dogs and not puppy mill dogs.
Big Bummer #2 - not being old enough to receive the Senior Discount at the Premium Outlet Mall.
My Dream Come True - Mahalo to AK and CS who took me to the mecca for all crafters, Michaels. Imagine going to crafter heaven and located right next to that is Pet Smart. You had to pinch me since I was up in the clouds. Bought lots of doggy t-shirts (for humans), snacks for Rayray and Tata and Hanukah stuff for the Jewpanese folks.
Most Embarassing Moment - Screwing up the steps to Pokemon Ondo big time and having it caught on tape. It didn't help that I had a Tourette's Moment whenever I mde a mistake or that I was in the front and everyone was copying me. Good thing most of the audience was already drunk.
Already looking forward to next year, even though it is supposedly the last Mini Reunion.
It was a great trip even with the LOOOOOOONG treks to my hotel room at the Cal and the Rio. Maybe it's just chubby paranoia but I had the room at the end of the hall at both places. Now, aside from the fat rash I got from my chunky daikon thighs rubbing together as I stuggled down the hall lugging my three suitcases (one full of persimmons, one full of Zoo York t-shirts, and one full of stuff for the dogs) and the lack of hot water at the Rio, I loved every minute of it. Well, I guess I should be accurate, I DID have hot water once I ran the two sinks and the shower full blast for 20 minutes. Not very green but at 5:30 am, who gives a poop about killing the earth.
The No More Homeless Pets Conference was life-changing. I was totally burned out on anything having to do with rescuing dogs before I left. Stepped down from writing articles, fostering or anything. I really felt like I could not spend one more minute helping anyone with four paws who was not already part of my family. The whole "one person cannot make a difference" cliche. However, after attending the Conference, I realize that even the smallest effort can result in a major change and even saving the life of one animal is worth the sacrifice. Maybe I was hormonal but all I did was cry at every workshop. The good thing was that everyone else in the sea of womenhood (my guess is that it was about 90% female, mostly middle aged white ladies) was also bawling whenever the power point featured a dog, cat or something furry.
Even the vegan food was good or maybe the 5 mile trek to the Conference Rooms made me so hungry, I would eat something healthy.
I am going to focus on working on the new Best Friends Campaign called "Pit Bulls, Saving America's Dogs". There was a fantastic presentation by Safe Humane Chicago on their youth ambassador, pit bull training and DAWG project (an advocacy group that monitors cases involving animal abuse). I am hoping to start something up like the DAWG project here so all of my fellow "retired" attorneys and judges, watch out. I'll draft you yet.
So, here's a short list of my Vegas Trip:
Best Breakfast - the Omelet House at the Plaza Hotel, Downtown. I got major tummy rumblings on Day 1 from pigging out on eggs benedict at the Main Street Station and vowed to stay away from Hollandaise Sauce for the next week. However, the Omelet House had a veggie benedict with fresh spinach and mushrooms and H-bomb sauce. It was delicious and the tummy kept it down all day long. Had to give in to the dark side and have a pancake too. Yes, I know you cannot use your Aloha Coupon but it really delicious. Super clean and very attentive and friendly staff.
Best Lunch - Vegetarian plate at Gaylord's at the Rio Hotel. This is a well-known Indian restaurant from San Francisco. I was trying to line up an appointment to get a tattoo at the Vince Neil Ink (yes, the Motley Crew blonde guy) by Sado, a tattoo artist from Hawaii, was with a client. Rather than run the marathon down to the Conference for a vegan lunch, I went to Gaylord's for lunch. Wow - three different vegetarian main dishes, basmati rice with saffron and four huge pieces of naan! Their sweet lassi was perfect - not too overwhelming and very refreshing. I was so tempted to box up the leftovers and carry it with me but I had another 5 hours or so of Conference to go. I wish I had gone to the Sunday brunch instead of the Rio Buffet. Maybe next time.
Best Dinner - BBQ Nachos from the Rub at the Rio. I know I will go to hell for eating swine after attending a No-Kill conference but I just couldn't resist. I keep seeing BBQ Nachos on Food Network so here it was in front of me. It must have weight about 5 pounds. You know you are in for a great meal when you have a 10 minute conversation with the hostess about funky reading glasses and where you should NOT get a tattoo. The Nachos had BBQ beans instead of refried, BBQ pulled pork instead of ground beef and BBQ sauce instead of salsa. It was even good totally ice cold when I was eating it at midnight while watching Anderson Cooper 360 reruns
Celebrity Sightings - Christopher Kale Jones from Hawaii after Jersey Boys (LN and I made major "big body" and got his autograph and took photos with him), the actor who played Vince in Jersey Boys who everyone IGNORED when we were swarming Chris Jones, Dr. Dan from Dogtown (very cute even when talking about the unique scent of a parvo infested BM),most of the trainers from Dogtown, Penn (very, very, very tall but very, very, very nice), Teller (who spoke and warned me not to let the Professor to go into magic but suggested a "normal" path). and the few dogs that were in the Popovich Pet Circus.
Big Bummer - I have been waiting for over a year to go to the Pet Circus and was bummed that the show featured a whole lot of humans and cats but was very light on dogs. Well, at least they were rescued dogs and not puppy mill dogs.
Big Bummer #2 - not being old enough to receive the Senior Discount at the Premium Outlet Mall.
My Dream Come True - Mahalo to AK and CS who took me to the mecca for all crafters, Michaels. Imagine going to crafter heaven and located right next to that is Pet Smart. You had to pinch me since I was up in the clouds. Bought lots of doggy t-shirts (for humans), snacks for Rayray and Tata and Hanukah stuff for the Jewpanese folks.
Most Embarassing Moment - Screwing up the steps to Pokemon Ondo big time and having it caught on tape. It didn't help that I had a Tourette's Moment whenever I mde a mistake or that I was in the front and everyone was copying me. Good thing most of the audience was already drunk.
Already looking forward to next year, even though it is supposedly the last Mini Reunion.
Friday, October 23, 2009
Bow Wow Wow Yippy Yo Yippy Yay
To quote Ice Cube, "Today was a good day."
My hot water is still not fixed and yes, I did have to shower while running the hot water in the sinks. At least I did have hot water even though it was not the result of any repair. It was real hot too, not tepid like the other evening.
Registration for the Conference started at 6:30 am but I was still in the room dealing with the lack of sleep. I went down about 7:00 am. There were a bunch of conventions and we were WAAAAYYYYYYY in the back of the convention area. It was a long walk but I was used to it having trekked miles to get to my rooms at the Cal and here. Being the impatient person that I am, I dreaded waiting in the long line to register but it was very efficient and moved quickly. The volunteers (mostly from Las Vegas) and the Best Friends staff members were awesome - totally professional, hard working and friendly. Not a habute face to be seen anywhere all day long - from the first session at 8:00 to the opening of the exhibit hall at 5:30. They were there from 5:00 am to set up and as I write, are still there. I have never experienced such a pleasant bunch of folks at any big event like this.
The first session was a panel discussion on innovative programs to save the lives of animals. Tears poured from my eyes as there were very powerful video snippets featuring the real life stories of conference attendees and photos of some of the dogs and cats who had been helped by the panelist. I was crying so much I had to wipe my eyes on my shirt since the kleenix wasnt' cutting it. I was also crying because everyone - panelists and moderators - had a biting sense of humor (pun unintended). It was inspiring to hear the impact their efforts had on reducing the number of dogs and cats killed by shelters. What was particularly moving was listening to them tell why they became animal advocates. The stories of "first contact" with animals needing rescue were unique yet the feelings evoked were universal.
What I think would work for us in Hawaii is the Super Adoption program where a large number of rescue groups come together in one location with their dogs in need of adoption. The sheer number of organizations combined with the hundreds of dogs looking for homes hammers home the message of animal homelessness. As one speaker explained, people do not realize how dire the need is until they see 1000 dogs in front of them.
My first workshop focused on creative fundraising. I really enjoyed this session and a lot of the tips apply to my job with the veterans. I was surprised to learn that statistically, the two most effective fundraisers are fundraising events and letters asking for donations (over 70%). I was not surprised to learn that you should NOT do everything by yourself.
All of the food at the conference is vegan so I set off by myself for lunch. I also wanted to stop by the Vince Neil Ink tattoo shop in the hotel to see if I liked anyone's work. There was a tattoo artist named Sado who was from Hawaii but he was working on someone. I want to get two graffiti tigers and a sheep and he had something similar on the front of his portfolio. I went back after the Conference wrapped for the day but he was already gone and will not be back to work until Tuesday. Bummers. I was thrilled to see Twig from Inked there and maybe I will be a total geek and go get his autograph later.
I went to Gaylord's of San Francisco, a well known Indian restaurant, to eat. They had a lunch special for $11.95. That included a big bowl of saffron rice, four huge pieces of naan and three types of veggie dishes (paneer with peas, eggplant bharta and a black dal). It was delicious as was the sweet lassi. The place was empty - only five tables were occupied - and that was kind of sad. There were more waiters than patrons. As I only had 30 minutes to eat, I left most of it there and really didn't want to drag it around for the rest of the day.
The three founders of Best Friends were the keynote speakers who talked about the history of the organization and location. It was like going to a comedy show since they were hilarious and had impeccable comedic timing.
My second workshop was on disease prevention for rescues and fosters. It was also an eye-opener and I realize that I have been doing things completely wrong when introducing the foster doggies to my old doggies. I think I was way more ignorant than most of the crowd who knew the latin names of illnesses and could easily recite a list of doggy or kitty meds. It was cool to see Dr. Mike from the Dogtown TV show though. I was surprised to learn that the mild type of mange (not what Tiger has) can be passed from dog to human. I was not surprised to learn that doggy diarrhea is stinky, gross and can travel everywhere.
The last session was my favorite, a presentation on Chicago's Safe Humane programs. The young man who spoke (a high school student) was articulate, witty and also very warm and wise. Not the adjectives one usually uses to speak of an inner city youth from Chicago. I was particularly interested in their program called DAWG in which volunteers serve as advocates for the animals who are victims of abuse. They follow the cases from start to finish and go to Court during trial. It was something that I could do from home and still make a difference.
Anyhow, I am totally exhausted and my eyes are starting to close since I've been up until 4 am. I probably walked several miles from my room to the conference in that time. So, now it is time to go to sleep.
My hot water is still not fixed and yes, I did have to shower while running the hot water in the sinks. At least I did have hot water even though it was not the result of any repair. It was real hot too, not tepid like the other evening.
Registration for the Conference started at 6:30 am but I was still in the room dealing with the lack of sleep. I went down about 7:00 am. There were a bunch of conventions and we were WAAAAYYYYYYY in the back of the convention area. It was a long walk but I was used to it having trekked miles to get to my rooms at the Cal and here. Being the impatient person that I am, I dreaded waiting in the long line to register but it was very efficient and moved quickly. The volunteers (mostly from Las Vegas) and the Best Friends staff members were awesome - totally professional, hard working and friendly. Not a habute face to be seen anywhere all day long - from the first session at 8:00 to the opening of the exhibit hall at 5:30. They were there from 5:00 am to set up and as I write, are still there. I have never experienced such a pleasant bunch of folks at any big event like this.
The first session was a panel discussion on innovative programs to save the lives of animals. Tears poured from my eyes as there were very powerful video snippets featuring the real life stories of conference attendees and photos of some of the dogs and cats who had been helped by the panelist. I was crying so much I had to wipe my eyes on my shirt since the kleenix wasnt' cutting it. I was also crying because everyone - panelists and moderators - had a biting sense of humor (pun unintended). It was inspiring to hear the impact their efforts had on reducing the number of dogs and cats killed by shelters. What was particularly moving was listening to them tell why they became animal advocates. The stories of "first contact" with animals needing rescue were unique yet the feelings evoked were universal.
What I think would work for us in Hawaii is the Super Adoption program where a large number of rescue groups come together in one location with their dogs in need of adoption. The sheer number of organizations combined with the hundreds of dogs looking for homes hammers home the message of animal homelessness. As one speaker explained, people do not realize how dire the need is until they see 1000 dogs in front of them.
My first workshop focused on creative fundraising. I really enjoyed this session and a lot of the tips apply to my job with the veterans. I was surprised to learn that statistically, the two most effective fundraisers are fundraising events and letters asking for donations (over 70%). I was not surprised to learn that you should NOT do everything by yourself.
All of the food at the conference is vegan so I set off by myself for lunch. I also wanted to stop by the Vince Neil Ink tattoo shop in the hotel to see if I liked anyone's work. There was a tattoo artist named Sado who was from Hawaii but he was working on someone. I want to get two graffiti tigers and a sheep and he had something similar on the front of his portfolio. I went back after the Conference wrapped for the day but he was already gone and will not be back to work until Tuesday. Bummers. I was thrilled to see Twig from Inked there and maybe I will be a total geek and go get his autograph later.
I went to Gaylord's of San Francisco, a well known Indian restaurant, to eat. They had a lunch special for $11.95. That included a big bowl of saffron rice, four huge pieces of naan and three types of veggie dishes (paneer with peas, eggplant bharta and a black dal). It was delicious as was the sweet lassi. The place was empty - only five tables were occupied - and that was kind of sad. There were more waiters than patrons. As I only had 30 minutes to eat, I left most of it there and really didn't want to drag it around for the rest of the day.
The three founders of Best Friends were the keynote speakers who talked about the history of the organization and location. It was like going to a comedy show since they were hilarious and had impeccable comedic timing.
My second workshop was on disease prevention for rescues and fosters. It was also an eye-opener and I realize that I have been doing things completely wrong when introducing the foster doggies to my old doggies. I think I was way more ignorant than most of the crowd who knew the latin names of illnesses and could easily recite a list of doggy or kitty meds. It was cool to see Dr. Mike from the Dogtown TV show though. I was surprised to learn that the mild type of mange (not what Tiger has) can be passed from dog to human. I was not surprised to learn that doggy diarrhea is stinky, gross and can travel everywhere.
The last session was my favorite, a presentation on Chicago's Safe Humane programs. The young man who spoke (a high school student) was articulate, witty and also very warm and wise. Not the adjectives one usually uses to speak of an inner city youth from Chicago. I was particularly interested in their program called DAWG in which volunteers serve as advocates for the animals who are victims of abuse. They follow the cases from start to finish and go to Court during trial. It was something that I could do from home and still make a difference.
Anyhow, I am totally exhausted and my eyes are starting to close since I've been up until 4 am. I probably walked several miles from my room to the conference in that time. So, now it is time to go to sleep.
Roughing It at the Rio
Yesterday, the Mini-Reunion wrapped up. The Hawaii folks flew out in the wee hours of the morning and the Mainland folks followed several hours later. I thought about having my last local breakfast for a few days at Main Street or the Cal but realized I had given all of my coupons to MH the night before at dinner since I wanted to avoid bringing home an extra box full of playing card cookies or smashed bags of chips. I already am going to be dropping a bundle paying my baggage fees to the airline for three bags full of stuff.
As much as I enjoy the hominess of being at the California Hotel, I was looking forward to moving to the Rio where I am now. I had a bunch of problems with my room as soon as I got there - the first being that I had no reservation and the place was sold out. Apparently, it is the class reunion season and everyone and his aunty was there so the Cal and any of the nearby hotels had no vacancies. I was seriously thinking about just dropping everything off for the banquet and taking a cab back to the airport to fly home. I thought this would be a sign of things to come. Thankfully, the coordinator at the Cal had been in charge of the bookings for our group and squeezed me into the room of someone who had cancelled at the last minute.
Little did I know that in fact, this would in fact be a sign of things to come - regarding my hotel rooms anyway.
At the Cal, I was in the last room in the new section of the place. WAYYYYYYY down in nowhere land. It wasn't much of a problem on day one but by the time I left five days later, I was feeling in my legs. What was a problem on day one was hauling two suitcases full of centerpieces and favors and one duffel bag full of omiyage from the lobby, across the casino and down the hall only to discover that my entry card had not been activiated! As you can guess, I was swearing up a storm as I had to drag everything back and return to the Front Desk to activate my key. Luckily, the hospitality room for our group was open so I could drop off my bags and walk back unemcumbered.
It turned out that many in our group had to do the same things as their keys also did not work.
Other than that escapade, my hotel stay at the Cal was pretty uneventful. The only thing that bothered me was someone on the elevator saying that she asked for a different room when she discovered she was way down the hall because of safety concerns. "Someone could follow you from the elevator and shove you in your room when you opened the door and nobody would hear you since you are so far from anyone," she remarked. Okay, I wasn't paranoid until I heard that. I guess I was lucky that my neighbor on the side and across the way were older ladies whose only crime was speaking very loudly in filipino whenever they got back to the room - with the exception of one drunken episode on Sunday when one group of them locked themselves out of their room. Maybe I was tired but I found the whole thing hilarious listening to them call to their friend who was asleep in the room and at the end, realizing that she was hard of hearing.
I expected that things would go better here at the Rio as the bellman was a local guy who tagged me as a fellow Hawaiian as soon as I walked over ("Only people from Hawaii have so much heavy luggage," he explained). I wanted to be positive but it has been simply awful here, room wise. It started at Check In when they presented me with a bill for $300 more than the confirmation amount on my room reservation. I was totally shocked when I saw that the price of my room on Sunday was now $350 and not $50 as I had booked online. I asked the front desk person helping me if I could correct this to the amount listed on my confirmation print out and she said that I needed to work it out when I checked out on Monday since that was not her problem. So much for customer service. And people complain about the hotel workers in Waikiki.
I went up to my room on the 7th floor (after having gone to the wrong floor - misreading IT for the number 1 and trying to open a room 10 floors above mine, only to realize that there was still a person in that room) and found out that yet again, I was in the last room in the place. This being the big honking Rio and not the tiny dinky Cal, the trek was almost double that of my previous abode. It felt like I was travelling from Hawaii Kai to Mililani via foot. Plus, I had to dodge the room service trays that had clearly been sitting there from morning (it was about 1:00 pm when I got there).
The Rio is an all-suite hotel and is very spacious. I would say it is about 3 times larger than my room at the Cal. I am typing from a desk, have a sofa and lazy-boy chair with a coffee table, three night stands and a large tv cabinet. There is a separate double sink area from the bathroom which also has its own sink. The in-room fridge is also on the larger side and totally cold. There are drawers for clothing under the double sink which makes sense. You can just come out of the shower and change rather than having to run into the living area all wet. Best of all, there is a large makeup mirror and a hair dryer!
So, why I am complaining?
My beautiful view is of the parking lot. I normally could care less but the shuttles to the airport and the Rio shuttle to Harrahs, Paris and Bally run all day and more importantly, all night long. You can hear every sound since we are so far away from the strip. Initially, it was irritating but I guess I have gotten used to the noise. What I haven't gotten used to is the SMELL that wafts up to the room during meal service on the first floor. I must be right above one of the restaurants since the room reeks of cooking oil during meal hours. Now, you know I am a friend of fried stuff but I really don't consider it a pleasant fragrance outside of the kitchen or dining room. It is unlikely that "fried shrimp ala Panda Express would be a top seller for Glade. However, the smell did go away (either that or I am also getting used to it) so it hasn't been too much of a pain.
What has been a total dealbreaker is not having any hot water in the shower.
Something told me to take a shower when I checked in but I hadn't eaten all day and decided I would try the Carnival Buffet then head out for another day of hunting for things for the Professor. I posted photos of the buffet on my Facebook page if you are interested. I made it back to the room at about 8:00 pm, had my Chipotle burrito (pleased to report that contrary to warnings on South Park, I did not experience any anal bleeding) and channel surfed between the David Foster salute on PBS and Latinos in America on CNN. At about midnight, I wanted to sit in the tub before heading off to bed. I ran the water for the tub, went back to get my book and came back to a tub as chilly as my ice box! I ran the water a little longer, almost 15 minutes, but it was still cold. The water in my three sinks was hot though.
I called to maintenance to see if there was anything that could be done right away but was told that they could not tell me when they could send maintenance over. Instead, I was told to call when I woke up in the morning and they would send someone there. I just hung up the phone and went to bed, stinky, sticky and mad.
So, this is why I was up at 4:00 am this morning. Registration for my conference begins at 6:30 am and the program starts at 8:00 am. I really did not want to deal with trying to register and trying to deal with the whole water issue at the same time. I guess (stupid me) was hoping that for some reason, the water would get hotter the next day but nope, it was still cold after 15 minutes. I placed another phone call to maintenance and they said they would send someone up right away.
Right away in Las Vegas time apparently means 45 minutes.
In the interim, I called down to the front desk to speak to a manager and lodge a complaint. I tried to be nice and not blow up as is my usual charming way. He was very apologetic, assured me that maintenance was on its way and apologized for the myriad of problems I have been having with my room. He corrected the mistake on the billing (Yes, they had incorrectly charged me $350 for the $49 room and the front desk person should have corrected it at check in) and said he would try to arrange for another room today. I have to call between 12 and 4 to see if they can move me to a new room and then I have to actually be in the old room and move myself to the new room. Apparently, the policy is that the bell men do NOT go into a room without the guest being present. This is going to suck as my conference wraps up at 5:30 and I only have until 6:00 to move.
Bottom line is my room is still without hot water as there was no repair of any sort. The maintenance guy simply came upstairs and ran all of the sinks at the same time as the shower. He said that because I am in the last room on the floor, I am the last one to receive any hot water so I have to run everything to tip the inventory my way. Yes, you heard me right, the only way I can take a hot shower is to run the hot water from each of the three sinks at full blast at the SAME TIME. Total waste of water and not very earth-friendly from a place that claims to promote sustainability.
I feel bad that I didn't tip the maintenance guy (I only had $1 in small bills and wasn't about to give the guy a $20) but then, he didn't do anything to fix the problem, right? I mean, I could have turned on the water in the sinks and sat on my ass in the bathroom for 20 minutes too.
So, now that I have $10 a day internet access in my room, I will keep you posted on my life in hotel room hell.
At least the people I've met from the doggie conference have been very nice.
As much as I enjoy the hominess of being at the California Hotel, I was looking forward to moving to the Rio where I am now. I had a bunch of problems with my room as soon as I got there - the first being that I had no reservation and the place was sold out. Apparently, it is the class reunion season and everyone and his aunty was there so the Cal and any of the nearby hotels had no vacancies. I was seriously thinking about just dropping everything off for the banquet and taking a cab back to the airport to fly home. I thought this would be a sign of things to come. Thankfully, the coordinator at the Cal had been in charge of the bookings for our group and squeezed me into the room of someone who had cancelled at the last minute.
Little did I know that in fact, this would in fact be a sign of things to come - regarding my hotel rooms anyway.
At the Cal, I was in the last room in the new section of the place. WAYYYYYYY down in nowhere land. It wasn't much of a problem on day one but by the time I left five days later, I was feeling in my legs. What was a problem on day one was hauling two suitcases full of centerpieces and favors and one duffel bag full of omiyage from the lobby, across the casino and down the hall only to discover that my entry card had not been activiated! As you can guess, I was swearing up a storm as I had to drag everything back and return to the Front Desk to activate my key. Luckily, the hospitality room for our group was open so I could drop off my bags and walk back unemcumbered.
It turned out that many in our group had to do the same things as their keys also did not work.
Other than that escapade, my hotel stay at the Cal was pretty uneventful. The only thing that bothered me was someone on the elevator saying that she asked for a different room when she discovered she was way down the hall because of safety concerns. "Someone could follow you from the elevator and shove you in your room when you opened the door and nobody would hear you since you are so far from anyone," she remarked. Okay, I wasn't paranoid until I heard that. I guess I was lucky that my neighbor on the side and across the way were older ladies whose only crime was speaking very loudly in filipino whenever they got back to the room - with the exception of one drunken episode on Sunday when one group of them locked themselves out of their room. Maybe I was tired but I found the whole thing hilarious listening to them call to their friend who was asleep in the room and at the end, realizing that she was hard of hearing.
I expected that things would go better here at the Rio as the bellman was a local guy who tagged me as a fellow Hawaiian as soon as I walked over ("Only people from Hawaii have so much heavy luggage," he explained). I wanted to be positive but it has been simply awful here, room wise. It started at Check In when they presented me with a bill for $300 more than the confirmation amount on my room reservation. I was totally shocked when I saw that the price of my room on Sunday was now $350 and not $50 as I had booked online. I asked the front desk person helping me if I could correct this to the amount listed on my confirmation print out and she said that I needed to work it out when I checked out on Monday since that was not her problem. So much for customer service. And people complain about the hotel workers in Waikiki.
I went up to my room on the 7th floor (after having gone to the wrong floor - misreading IT for the number 1 and trying to open a room 10 floors above mine, only to realize that there was still a person in that room) and found out that yet again, I was in the last room in the place. This being the big honking Rio and not the tiny dinky Cal, the trek was almost double that of my previous abode. It felt like I was travelling from Hawaii Kai to Mililani via foot. Plus, I had to dodge the room service trays that had clearly been sitting there from morning (it was about 1:00 pm when I got there).
The Rio is an all-suite hotel and is very spacious. I would say it is about 3 times larger than my room at the Cal. I am typing from a desk, have a sofa and lazy-boy chair with a coffee table, three night stands and a large tv cabinet. There is a separate double sink area from the bathroom which also has its own sink. The in-room fridge is also on the larger side and totally cold. There are drawers for clothing under the double sink which makes sense. You can just come out of the shower and change rather than having to run into the living area all wet. Best of all, there is a large makeup mirror and a hair dryer!
So, why I am complaining?
My beautiful view is of the parking lot. I normally could care less but the shuttles to the airport and the Rio shuttle to Harrahs, Paris and Bally run all day and more importantly, all night long. You can hear every sound since we are so far away from the strip. Initially, it was irritating but I guess I have gotten used to the noise. What I haven't gotten used to is the SMELL that wafts up to the room during meal service on the first floor. I must be right above one of the restaurants since the room reeks of cooking oil during meal hours. Now, you know I am a friend of fried stuff but I really don't consider it a pleasant fragrance outside of the kitchen or dining room. It is unlikely that "fried shrimp ala Panda Express would be a top seller for Glade. However, the smell did go away (either that or I am also getting used to it) so it hasn't been too much of a pain.
What has been a total dealbreaker is not having any hot water in the shower.
Something told me to take a shower when I checked in but I hadn't eaten all day and decided I would try the Carnival Buffet then head out for another day of hunting for things for the Professor. I posted photos of the buffet on my Facebook page if you are interested. I made it back to the room at about 8:00 pm, had my Chipotle burrito (pleased to report that contrary to warnings on South Park, I did not experience any anal bleeding) and channel surfed between the David Foster salute on PBS and Latinos in America on CNN. At about midnight, I wanted to sit in the tub before heading off to bed. I ran the water for the tub, went back to get my book and came back to a tub as chilly as my ice box! I ran the water a little longer, almost 15 minutes, but it was still cold. The water in my three sinks was hot though.
I called to maintenance to see if there was anything that could be done right away but was told that they could not tell me when they could send maintenance over. Instead, I was told to call when I woke up in the morning and they would send someone there. I just hung up the phone and went to bed, stinky, sticky and mad.
So, this is why I was up at 4:00 am this morning. Registration for my conference begins at 6:30 am and the program starts at 8:00 am. I really did not want to deal with trying to register and trying to deal with the whole water issue at the same time. I guess (stupid me) was hoping that for some reason, the water would get hotter the next day but nope, it was still cold after 15 minutes. I placed another phone call to maintenance and they said they would send someone up right away.
Right away in Las Vegas time apparently means 45 minutes.
In the interim, I called down to the front desk to speak to a manager and lodge a complaint. I tried to be nice and not blow up as is my usual charming way. He was very apologetic, assured me that maintenance was on its way and apologized for the myriad of problems I have been having with my room. He corrected the mistake on the billing (Yes, they had incorrectly charged me $350 for the $49 room and the front desk person should have corrected it at check in) and said he would try to arrange for another room today. I have to call between 12 and 4 to see if they can move me to a new room and then I have to actually be in the old room and move myself to the new room. Apparently, the policy is that the bell men do NOT go into a room without the guest being present. This is going to suck as my conference wraps up at 5:30 and I only have until 6:00 to move.
Bottom line is my room is still without hot water as there was no repair of any sort. The maintenance guy simply came upstairs and ran all of the sinks at the same time as the shower. He said that because I am in the last room on the floor, I am the last one to receive any hot water so I have to run everything to tip the inventory my way. Yes, you heard me right, the only way I can take a hot shower is to run the hot water from each of the three sinks at full blast at the SAME TIME. Total waste of water and not very earth-friendly from a place that claims to promote sustainability.
I feel bad that I didn't tip the maintenance guy (I only had $1 in small bills and wasn't about to give the guy a $20) but then, he didn't do anything to fix the problem, right? I mean, I could have turned on the water in the sinks and sat on my ass in the bathroom for 20 minutes too.
So, now that I have $10 a day internet access in my room, I will keep you posted on my life in hotel room hell.
At least the people I've met from the doggie conference have been very nice.
Friday, October 16, 2009
Viva Las Vegas
The kids were on my case for not having written anything since September. It's funny but in person, they want nothing to do with me. When I try to talk to them face-to-face (or more accurately, face to back of head), they automatically go into ignore mode and press the mute button in their brains to tune me out. However, they seem to thrive on reading what I have written on my blog as long as it has nothing to do with them or as long as it has everything to do with how awful the other two kids are.
So, what have I been up to since September? Mostly I have been obsessing over getting things in order at work.
We will be having elections for our BOD for the first time in decades. It has been a major undertaking at work trying to update our membership roster. My co-worker, AS, and I have pretty much put in full time hours plus time at home trying to update our membership list of "da boys", "da boy's wahine" and "da kids of da boys.". I know it sounds like a simple task but it has been a battle trying to wade through records that haven't been updated since Bill Clinton was in the Oval Office and hunting for dues payments in newly discovered receipt books. In other words, it has been yet another daunting heavy duty clean up job.
It was a totally depressing undertaking (even though we FINISHED everything) as we separated the members who were alive from those who had passed away. It is one thing to see a list of 5 or so veterans who are no longer with us published in each issue of our newsletter but quite another thing to see that the living veterans barely filled up a small box of index cards while those who were deceased were packed into a huge yard-long box of index cards (which seems to be updated daily). It really hammered the sad reality home to me.
This is why I feel it is so important for me to go with them to Las Vegas. I know that reads totally insincere but that is truly how I feel. Each year, there are fewer and fewer of the veterans who are physically able to travel or mentally able to process leaving the comfort of their home. Just today, I found out that one of the veterans who is a close family friend went into the hospital for an unexpected surgical procedure and will not be attending. I know it is selfish of me to hope that he will be there on Sunday but it just will not be the same without him there. He's really Mr. Aloha from LA. His absence will leave a huge void in everything.
So, I should have been getting ready for this trip since September but haven't done anything. Haven't even packed yet.
We are going to go to see Jersey Boys and (hip hip hooray), the Popovich Dog Circus that I wanted to see the last time. It will be a heavy dog themed trip for me as I will also be attending the "No More Homeless Dogs" Conference sponsored by the Best Friends Rescue Organization (the people who are featured in the show Dogtown). I am bummed that I didn't sign up in time to visit the shelter in Utah but I think being away from home for a full 2 weeks and not just 8 days would be too much for those left behind (the human ones, not the doggy ones).
I am really looking forward to going to the Conference as there are a lot of topics that apply not only to my dog-crazed volunteer obsession but also to my job. I am most looking forward to the sessions on how to "market" pit bulls for adoption or fostering as well as how to use social networking for non-profit communication (led by Obama's PR team- totally cool). Hopefully, I will figure out how to Tweet on my phone so I can actually join the cult of Twitter there.
Plus, I am going to try to see Penn and Tellaer. Yes, by myself. How pitiful, huh?
So, what have I been up to since September? Mostly I have been obsessing over getting things in order at work.
We will be having elections for our BOD for the first time in decades. It has been a major undertaking at work trying to update our membership roster. My co-worker, AS, and I have pretty much put in full time hours plus time at home trying to update our membership list of "da boys", "da boy's wahine" and "da kids of da boys.". I know it sounds like a simple task but it has been a battle trying to wade through records that haven't been updated since Bill Clinton was in the Oval Office and hunting for dues payments in newly discovered receipt books. In other words, it has been yet another daunting heavy duty clean up job.
It was a totally depressing undertaking (even though we FINISHED everything) as we separated the members who were alive from those who had passed away. It is one thing to see a list of 5 or so veterans who are no longer with us published in each issue of our newsletter but quite another thing to see that the living veterans barely filled up a small box of index cards while those who were deceased were packed into a huge yard-long box of index cards (which seems to be updated daily). It really hammered the sad reality home to me.
This is why I feel it is so important for me to go with them to Las Vegas. I know that reads totally insincere but that is truly how I feel. Each year, there are fewer and fewer of the veterans who are physically able to travel or mentally able to process leaving the comfort of their home. Just today, I found out that one of the veterans who is a close family friend went into the hospital for an unexpected surgical procedure and will not be attending. I know it is selfish of me to hope that he will be there on Sunday but it just will not be the same without him there. He's really Mr. Aloha from LA. His absence will leave a huge void in everything.
So, I should have been getting ready for this trip since September but haven't done anything. Haven't even packed yet.
We are going to go to see Jersey Boys and (hip hip hooray), the Popovich Dog Circus that I wanted to see the last time. It will be a heavy dog themed trip for me as I will also be attending the "No More Homeless Dogs" Conference sponsored by the Best Friends Rescue Organization (the people who are featured in the show Dogtown). I am bummed that I didn't sign up in time to visit the shelter in Utah but I think being away from home for a full 2 weeks and not just 8 days would be too much for those left behind (the human ones, not the doggy ones).
I am really looking forward to going to the Conference as there are a lot of topics that apply not only to my dog-crazed volunteer obsession but also to my job. I am most looking forward to the sessions on how to "market" pit bulls for adoption or fostering as well as how to use social networking for non-profit communication (led by Obama's PR team- totally cool). Hopefully, I will figure out how to Tweet on my phone so I can actually join the cult of Twitter there.
Plus, I am going to try to see Penn and Tellaer. Yes, by myself. How pitiful, huh?
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Signs, Signs, Everywhere Signs
Monday was the Mad Cow's 6th birthday. As usual, my Mommy guilt set in and we ended up making a simple afternoon snack at Kindergarten into a major production. My poor friend SH had to haul her heavy shave ice machine to the Clubhouse for us to use since Oscar the Grouch was not in the mood to spend his Yom Kippur in traction carrying the 2 ton made-in-Occupied-Japan lead paint covered shave ice machine that belongs to the veterans. I have to say, it was worth putting Oscar into physical dismay because SH's shave ice machine makes that really ono fine shave ice like they sell at Waiola Store, good enough to wait for hours in the hot sun behind tourists who smell like coconut oil and ask 1000 questions about snow cap.
As the third child of old fut parents, poor Mad Cow's celebrations are usually poorly planned, last minute affairs involving something that we can do with minimal effort and minimal cost. He wanted a bowling party but as he has only been in school for about a month and we don't know the kids, let alone the parents, we talked him out of a party involving his schoolmates. We played mind games with him and got him to agree that he would rather have a really expensive good birthday present with a smaller party instead of a dinky, junky present with a big party. So, his daytime bowling party for 23 kids and a parent has turned into a nighttime cosmic bowling party for 3 cousins, 2 siblings and us.
We did not make any arrangements to go out to dinner. Mad Cow wanted to have dinner at Aiea Bowl on Monday evening but we told him the freeway was shut down because of traffic. I mean, we eat breakfast and lunch there pretty much every Saturday when he was bowling league. Since Oscar had a coupon, we told him how fun it would be to go and eat at the restaurant with the aquarium. He agreed and we headed off to the Oceanarium at Pacific Beach (armed with a 25% off coupon and very low expectations). It didn't seem like a good sign to call at 5:00 and get a reservation for 5 people for 6:00 without a problem.
Things were looking up when we walked to the restaurant and saw my friend, LS, who works for the hotel. Oscar was happy because she gave us another coupon for 20%.
We were shocked that the place was packed - about 50-50 tourist to local ratio! Who said Waikiki was dead? There was a line at the door the whole night. We were even more shocked at how totally delicious and fresh the food was. Like I said, we weren't expecting much but the spread blew us away.
The spread featured a seafood buffet with crab legs and seafood pasta, prime rib, sushi, poke, and more. Everything looked good - nothing was dried out and items were replenished immediately. It was so good that the usual anti-fish children actually tried eating crab (well, mostly it was using the crab as a utensil to spoon butter into their mouths without us yelling at them). We evil parents let the Mad Cow eat three servings of pasta with "white sauce" without mentioning to him that the "herbs" in the sauce wer actually bits of clam meat. He loved it - ate huge portions nonstop. I guess anything covered with an inch of parmesan cheese tastes good.
The Diva are shrimp scampi and clam chowder, both doused in shoyu. Hey, you can dress up a Tita and take her into Waikiki but she will still pour shoyu over everything. She made us want to puke though when she started dipping pieces of cheese and then pieces of shrimp into the plate of chocolate sauce from the chocolate fountain on the buffet. The worst part is, she actually ATE these things after they were dipped.
The Professor stuck to the basics, meat and pasta with red sauce (no unidentifiable bits of clam though). He did try crab and also nigiri with sashimi on top. He decided that he is more of a lobster man though. If you ever wondered if it is worth paying private school tuition, think about this. The Professor also visited the chocolate fountain on the buffet and dipped in some fruit. However, he did not PEEL the bananas before dipping them. When he got to the table, he was trying to remove the peel on the drippy and messy chocolate covered banana. Again, sealing his fate as the incredibly bright kid with no common sense.
Now, I am not a big meat eater but I love prime rib. I am the type of person who loves that fatty, salty, burned end cut that is usually put on the side so normal people can eat the normally delicious parts. I love that gristly hard end cut and will shove anyone on the side who will get in my way to that artery clogging cut of cow. I was in bad karma carnivore heaven because it was so soft and ono! Probably the best piece of prime rib I have had ever. Very yummy horseradish sauce too.
It is a tradition in our family to request the "Happy Birthday" sign in the aquarium. I'm sure everyone has done this at least once in their life. During the meal, a scuba person goes into the aquarium and puts up a sign with your name and a message. Our message was "Happy Birthday Mad Cow, We Love You, Mom and Dad". Mad Cow was thrilled since everyone in the place clapped for him when the sign was put up and the bikini clad scuba girl waved at him. The sign stayed up for about half an hour before they took it away. We thought he would have a Mad Cow tantrum but it was deflected by a huge piece of chocolate cake and the singing of "Happy Birthday" by the waiters and other diners. Mad Cow was thrilled and his smile filled the room.
Oscar was not smiling when the bill came minutes later. Not because of the cost of the meals but because there was a $20 sign fee tacked onto our bill! He had not been told that there was a fee for this service when he asked for it nor had we ever been charged for it in the past. At first, we thought they had made a mistake and charged us for another buffet meal but there it was, sign charge! We would have done it anyway if we had known in advance about the charge since we knew the kids would get a kick out of it but boy, that was a surprise to see that at the bottom of the bill!
You'd think for $20 they would at least leave the sign there for the duration of our meal and not for a short time.
We wondered what would happen if this was prom season and some poor broke high school kid who was saving his money for a nice meal asked for the sign to impress his date, only to realize he was $20 short when the bill came!
But then again, this IS Waikiki, right?
Happy Birthday Mad Cow! We love you but next year, we'll bring our own sign for free.
As the third child of old fut parents, poor Mad Cow's celebrations are usually poorly planned, last minute affairs involving something that we can do with minimal effort and minimal cost. He wanted a bowling party but as he has only been in school for about a month and we don't know the kids, let alone the parents, we talked him out of a party involving his schoolmates. We played mind games with him and got him to agree that he would rather have a really expensive good birthday present with a smaller party instead of a dinky, junky present with a big party. So, his daytime bowling party for 23 kids and a parent has turned into a nighttime cosmic bowling party for 3 cousins, 2 siblings and us.
We did not make any arrangements to go out to dinner. Mad Cow wanted to have dinner at Aiea Bowl on Monday evening but we told him the freeway was shut down because of traffic. I mean, we eat breakfast and lunch there pretty much every Saturday when he was bowling league. Since Oscar had a coupon, we told him how fun it would be to go and eat at the restaurant with the aquarium. He agreed and we headed off to the Oceanarium at Pacific Beach (armed with a 25% off coupon and very low expectations). It didn't seem like a good sign to call at 5:00 and get a reservation for 5 people for 6:00 without a problem.
Things were looking up when we walked to the restaurant and saw my friend, LS, who works for the hotel. Oscar was happy because she gave us another coupon for 20%.
We were shocked that the place was packed - about 50-50 tourist to local ratio! Who said Waikiki was dead? There was a line at the door the whole night. We were even more shocked at how totally delicious and fresh the food was. Like I said, we weren't expecting much but the spread blew us away.
The spread featured a seafood buffet with crab legs and seafood pasta, prime rib, sushi, poke, and more. Everything looked good - nothing was dried out and items were replenished immediately. It was so good that the usual anti-fish children actually tried eating crab (well, mostly it was using the crab as a utensil to spoon butter into their mouths without us yelling at them). We evil parents let the Mad Cow eat three servings of pasta with "white sauce" without mentioning to him that the "herbs" in the sauce wer actually bits of clam meat. He loved it - ate huge portions nonstop. I guess anything covered with an inch of parmesan cheese tastes good.
The Diva are shrimp scampi and clam chowder, both doused in shoyu. Hey, you can dress up a Tita and take her into Waikiki but she will still pour shoyu over everything. She made us want to puke though when she started dipping pieces of cheese and then pieces of shrimp into the plate of chocolate sauce from the chocolate fountain on the buffet. The worst part is, she actually ATE these things after they were dipped.
The Professor stuck to the basics, meat and pasta with red sauce (no unidentifiable bits of clam though). He did try crab and also nigiri with sashimi on top. He decided that he is more of a lobster man though. If you ever wondered if it is worth paying private school tuition, think about this. The Professor also visited the chocolate fountain on the buffet and dipped in some fruit. However, he did not PEEL the bananas before dipping them. When he got to the table, he was trying to remove the peel on the drippy and messy chocolate covered banana. Again, sealing his fate as the incredibly bright kid with no common sense.
Now, I am not a big meat eater but I love prime rib. I am the type of person who loves that fatty, salty, burned end cut that is usually put on the side so normal people can eat the normally delicious parts. I love that gristly hard end cut and will shove anyone on the side who will get in my way to that artery clogging cut of cow. I was in bad karma carnivore heaven because it was so soft and ono! Probably the best piece of prime rib I have had ever. Very yummy horseradish sauce too.
It is a tradition in our family to request the "Happy Birthday" sign in the aquarium. I'm sure everyone has done this at least once in their life. During the meal, a scuba person goes into the aquarium and puts up a sign with your name and a message. Our message was "Happy Birthday Mad Cow, We Love You, Mom and Dad". Mad Cow was thrilled since everyone in the place clapped for him when the sign was put up and the bikini clad scuba girl waved at him. The sign stayed up for about half an hour before they took it away. We thought he would have a Mad Cow tantrum but it was deflected by a huge piece of chocolate cake and the singing of "Happy Birthday" by the waiters and other diners. Mad Cow was thrilled and his smile filled the room.
Oscar was not smiling when the bill came minutes later. Not because of the cost of the meals but because there was a $20 sign fee tacked onto our bill! He had not been told that there was a fee for this service when he asked for it nor had we ever been charged for it in the past. At first, we thought they had made a mistake and charged us for another buffet meal but there it was, sign charge! We would have done it anyway if we had known in advance about the charge since we knew the kids would get a kick out of it but boy, that was a surprise to see that at the bottom of the bill!
You'd think for $20 they would at least leave the sign there for the duration of our meal and not for a short time.
We wondered what would happen if this was prom season and some poor broke high school kid who was saving his money for a nice meal asked for the sign to impress his date, only to realize he was $20 short when the bill came!
But then again, this IS Waikiki, right?
Happy Birthday Mad Cow! We love you but next year, we'll bring our own sign for free.
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
Who Needs GI-Joe? I've Got My Own Real American Heroes
Last Friday, I was invited to a Welcome Home dinner for some soldiers who recently returned from Kuwait. My friend, BT, overestimated my social skills and unwittingly asked me if I would help with the dinner. He also asked me if I could get my "toxic twin", LN, to help out. Well, his exact words were, "I need someone to do the GIRLY stuff."
If you have had the pleasure to be around LN and I when we are in "dysfunctional duo" mode, it can be either a hilarious or a painful experience. It all depends on whether we let you in on the joke or decide you are the butt of the joke. Most of the time it is just the two of us verbally sniping at those innocent people who we are supposed to help. Think Perez Hilton but with raging female hormones. The strange thing is, our snarkiness is contageous and before you know it, we had a large contingency of snarky folks commenting on the dress (or lack thereof) of anyone who walked passed us.
It was a darn good time for all who did not hear us.
Now, if this was back when I was in high school or college, the prospect of spending the evening surrounded by guys in the military would fill me with dread. Images of caucasian jar heads hitting on my posse at Bobby McGees fill my brain. Thoughts of non-racist rejection lines thrown at popolo soldiers offering to buy us drinks float by. The very word, military, was said with a sneer. They were not part of us. They were from mysterious, unknown, forbidden lands known as Pearl Harbor, Kaneohe, Shafter or (shudder) Schofield Barracks. If you are of a certain age, you know the connotation that was implied when it was disclosed that a girl "dated military guys". Hi-Ho, Hi-Ho - it's off to slut town she go.
How ironic that I now spend most of my waking life surrounded by former and current military personnel...and I enjoy and cherish every minute I get to be in their company.
Granted, they are mostly local folks with a yellow or browning tinge to the skin and can turn the pidgin off and on.
Having the privilege of celebrating this return home, I know that there are many kinds of heroes.
Of course, the soldiers themselves. These guys are all citizen soldiers who left "normal" lives for a second tour of duty. A tour that should have never happened. A promise broken by the almighty all-knowing US goverment. Yet, even in the face of injustice directed at them, they went and did their duty for their country. Just as the boys of the 100th did almost 70 years earlier. No questions asked, just save the world and keep us free.
I felt very honored to be able to help welcome these guys home. This was their 2nd tour to the Middle East and they had lost a few comrades both times. Yet, they all wore huge smiles, laughed heartily and were clearly in love with everything that comes with being home.
Kind of felt a little cougar-ish as they were also GORGEOUS and blazing hot.
I also realized that their wives and Mothers were also heroes. I was touched that so many of the soldiers brought their Moms or even Grandmas as their dates!
Not only were the soldiers young but their Moms and Grannys were also youthful. I swear, I was probably a good decade older than some of the grandparents who came.
I could not take my eyes off my friend, TK, as she anxiously awaited her son's arrival to the dinner. You could just feel the joy and happiness emanating from her that came from knowing her little boy was home. Her eyes sparked as the thought of him and I know her heart leaped each time she mentioned his name. She has not only been HIS biggest supporter but wholeheartedly "adopted" everyone in his battalion. There was not one care package sent but hundreds. There was not one e-mail for him but a whole website set up for everyone.
The ability to spread your maternal devotion around is the sign of a true Mommy - not a Mother or a Mom - but a Mommy. You know, the Mommy who packs an extra PBJ sandwich for her kid's best friend who gets salad for lunch. The Mommy who will slap your head if you get wise, even in public. The Mommy who will give you a big goodbye kiss in front of everyone just because it embarrasses the hell out of you. The Mommy who will send you a file baked in a cake if you are imprisoned. The Mommy who would take a bullet for you, throw herself in front of a moving car or wash your skid marked BVDs with her bare hands. A Mother will lecture you about the dangers of alcohol, a Mommy will hold your hair as you barf in the toilet and play loud music the next morning to teach you a lesson as you nurse your pounding hangover.
TK is my Mommy hero and not just because she is a doggy-maniac like me. Maybe next time we will convince her to put her purse down as she anxiously paces the floor.
Their wives and girlfriends are heroes. I could not survive six weeks as a single Mom this summer. Had to take a couple mental crying breaks at Longs Drugs or locked up in my room. These ladies did it for years without complaint. They were strong, caring, compassionate and held down the fort. They too were beautiful and radiated joy and happiness. I know I pale in comparison to these ladies - I'm not worthy.
Finally, as much as I harass him, my friend BT is my hero. All the veterans - those in their twenties to those in their nineties - adored him (and not in a gay castrated dragon way) and it was clear that they respected his authority. As I watched him frantically running around making sure everyone was signed in and taken care of, I was reminded of the kudos that were given to General Shinseki during his confirmation hearing as Secretary of the VA. The common thread amongst these recommendations, whether from civilian layperson to high maka maka officer, was that General Shinseki truly cared for those he commanded. That was the highest complement and evident if you know anything about the General. He also cared about his country and every American. I can say the same thing about BT. Maybe he is only a jizo in the inside and not just the outside.
I'm still going to make fun of him mercilessly though...until he agrees to date one of my friends.
Welcome Home to all of our Real American Heroes!
If you have had the pleasure to be around LN and I when we are in "dysfunctional duo" mode, it can be either a hilarious or a painful experience. It all depends on whether we let you in on the joke or decide you are the butt of the joke. Most of the time it is just the two of us verbally sniping at those innocent people who we are supposed to help. Think Perez Hilton but with raging female hormones. The strange thing is, our snarkiness is contageous and before you know it, we had a large contingency of snarky folks commenting on the dress (or lack thereof) of anyone who walked passed us.
It was a darn good time for all who did not hear us.
Now, if this was back when I was in high school or college, the prospect of spending the evening surrounded by guys in the military would fill me with dread. Images of caucasian jar heads hitting on my posse at Bobby McGees fill my brain. Thoughts of non-racist rejection lines thrown at popolo soldiers offering to buy us drinks float by. The very word, military, was said with a sneer. They were not part of us. They were from mysterious, unknown, forbidden lands known as Pearl Harbor, Kaneohe, Shafter or (shudder) Schofield Barracks. If you are of a certain age, you know the connotation that was implied when it was disclosed that a girl "dated military guys". Hi-Ho, Hi-Ho - it's off to slut town she go.
How ironic that I now spend most of my waking life surrounded by former and current military personnel...and I enjoy and cherish every minute I get to be in their company.
Granted, they are mostly local folks with a yellow or browning tinge to the skin and can turn the pidgin off and on.
Having the privilege of celebrating this return home, I know that there are many kinds of heroes.
Of course, the soldiers themselves. These guys are all citizen soldiers who left "normal" lives for a second tour of duty. A tour that should have never happened. A promise broken by the almighty all-knowing US goverment. Yet, even in the face of injustice directed at them, they went and did their duty for their country. Just as the boys of the 100th did almost 70 years earlier. No questions asked, just save the world and keep us free.
I felt very honored to be able to help welcome these guys home. This was their 2nd tour to the Middle East and they had lost a few comrades both times. Yet, they all wore huge smiles, laughed heartily and were clearly in love with everything that comes with being home.
Kind of felt a little cougar-ish as they were also GORGEOUS and blazing hot.
I also realized that their wives and Mothers were also heroes. I was touched that so many of the soldiers brought their Moms or even Grandmas as their dates!
Not only were the soldiers young but their Moms and Grannys were also youthful. I swear, I was probably a good decade older than some of the grandparents who came.
I could not take my eyes off my friend, TK, as she anxiously awaited her son's arrival to the dinner. You could just feel the joy and happiness emanating from her that came from knowing her little boy was home. Her eyes sparked as the thought of him and I know her heart leaped each time she mentioned his name. She has not only been HIS biggest supporter but wholeheartedly "adopted" everyone in his battalion. There was not one care package sent but hundreds. There was not one e-mail for him but a whole website set up for everyone.
The ability to spread your maternal devotion around is the sign of a true Mommy - not a Mother or a Mom - but a Mommy. You know, the Mommy who packs an extra PBJ sandwich for her kid's best friend who gets salad for lunch. The Mommy who will slap your head if you get wise, even in public. The Mommy who will give you a big goodbye kiss in front of everyone just because it embarrasses the hell out of you. The Mommy who will send you a file baked in a cake if you are imprisoned. The Mommy who would take a bullet for you, throw herself in front of a moving car or wash your skid marked BVDs with her bare hands. A Mother will lecture you about the dangers of alcohol, a Mommy will hold your hair as you barf in the toilet and play loud music the next morning to teach you a lesson as you nurse your pounding hangover.
TK is my Mommy hero and not just because she is a doggy-maniac like me. Maybe next time we will convince her to put her purse down as she anxiously paces the floor.
Their wives and girlfriends are heroes. I could not survive six weeks as a single Mom this summer. Had to take a couple mental crying breaks at Longs Drugs or locked up in my room. These ladies did it for years without complaint. They were strong, caring, compassionate and held down the fort. They too were beautiful and radiated joy and happiness. I know I pale in comparison to these ladies - I'm not worthy.
Finally, as much as I harass him, my friend BT is my hero. All the veterans - those in their twenties to those in their nineties - adored him (and not in a gay castrated dragon way) and it was clear that they respected his authority. As I watched him frantically running around making sure everyone was signed in and taken care of, I was reminded of the kudos that were given to General Shinseki during his confirmation hearing as Secretary of the VA. The common thread amongst these recommendations, whether from civilian layperson to high maka maka officer, was that General Shinseki truly cared for those he commanded. That was the highest complement and evident if you know anything about the General. He also cared about his country and every American. I can say the same thing about BT. Maybe he is only a jizo in the inside and not just the outside.
I'm still going to make fun of him mercilessly though...until he agrees to date one of my friends.
Welcome Home to all of our Real American Heroes!
Going the way of the Dodo Bird - Old School Traditions
Today, I and the other parents in our P (no T) A received a e-mail from the head of our kids' school advising us that he had decided to cancel a traditional Senior ceremony that was the highlight of each and every Homecoming season. The stated reason for the cancellation was that this ceremony, which was conducted by the students who had been at the school since Kindergarten, was devisive and went against the philosophy of unity expounded by the school. The head honcho added that he rescinded his cancellation when the students who could participate in the ceremony (the ones who had been there from K to 12) decided they would open it up to every student in their graduating class. The end result is that this ceremony will now be performed by a select handful of students, some faculty members and administrators while the remainder of the Seniors gather around them.
Now as much as I am a proponent of living as much of a PC life as possible, I HATE this new procedure! I have attended this ceremony every year since the Diva and the Professor started at their school and it is always very moving, powerful and emotional. I marvel at the dignity of the students and the overwhelming sense of school, personal and familial pride that permeates the atmosphere around them. It is electric and pulls you in. You cannot help but see the faces of your own children in those of the young men and women who stand shoulder to shoulder at this ceremony. It is a moment that every parent of a Kindergartener secretly dreams of as it confirms that indeed, your child is truly one of the chosen, one of the golden beings, one who deserves to be celebrated. Yes, I know that sounds totally egotistical and elitist but darn it, that is the unspoken reality of private school parenting (shudder and cringe).
There have been quiet protests against this ceremony for decades, mostly by parents of children who do not fall within the K-12 crowd. They complain that the velvet rope should not apply to anything that happens on campus. Why can't my kid go and visit the Kindergarten classes like the K-12 kids (uh, what possible meaning can it have to him to visit a place he has never been do)? Why can't my daughter go to the luau with the K-6 teachers? Why can't I be included in EVERY FRICKEN THING even though you have never seen hide nor hair of me since my kid started at school?
Unfortunately, he who is the loudest monkutare usually wins. Why does it always seem to be the parent who has the least amount of time and tuition invested in the school? It seems like those of us who have been there since eternity have developed some semblance of dignity and restraint in the light of such outrageous and nanny-nanny-boo-boo behavior. Basically, a grown up version of, "If we don't play my way, I'm taking home all of the toys and going home."
Why do my children deserve to participate in something as Seniors when yours do not? Here are my top five reasons:
1) My children emerged victorious from that WWF steel cage match known as Kindergarten Admissions. They "beat out" 7-9 other kumon addled, flashcard trained, alumni-spawned, grandparent donor progeny, "token" preschoolers to score spots. They are the Hulk Hogans of itty bittys.
2) My children have survived years of doing without - without sleep, withoug vacations, without meals that cost more than $5, without contact with the "real world" - since their first day of school. They should reap he rewards of living in that utopia known as private school for their sacrifices, at least for an hour in their Senior year. Particularly more so when they realize they are ill-prepared to function amongst normal people when they head off to college.
3) My family has sacrificed for many more years than yours. We've eaten many more packages of 10 cent saimin or orange mac n cheese for dinner than yours. We've done more time at the Carnival and have the malasada burns to prove it. We've spoken to inane neurotic new parents at PTA events all the while repressing our desires to say, "PLEASE go somewhere else." We've volunteered in the classroom and pretended that we enjoy your company. Why should you get the same as us when you're life only sucked half as much as ours on campus?
4) I will have had to wear school colors and drive a school-colored car for 13 years even though my favorite color belongs to the "enemy school". Even more horrible, only one of the school colors from the kids' school is figure flattering.
5) Your kid is strange and you kind of are too. Some of you even smell funky.
Oscar the Grouch's only reason why our kids should be allowed to participate and not the non-K to 12 kids is simple, "We paid tuition for 13 years and you haven't so we've earned it!"
Now as much as I am a proponent of living as much of a PC life as possible, I HATE this new procedure! I have attended this ceremony every year since the Diva and the Professor started at their school and it is always very moving, powerful and emotional. I marvel at the dignity of the students and the overwhelming sense of school, personal and familial pride that permeates the atmosphere around them. It is electric and pulls you in. You cannot help but see the faces of your own children in those of the young men and women who stand shoulder to shoulder at this ceremony. It is a moment that every parent of a Kindergartener secretly dreams of as it confirms that indeed, your child is truly one of the chosen, one of the golden beings, one who deserves to be celebrated. Yes, I know that sounds totally egotistical and elitist but darn it, that is the unspoken reality of private school parenting (shudder and cringe).
There have been quiet protests against this ceremony for decades, mostly by parents of children who do not fall within the K-12 crowd. They complain that the velvet rope should not apply to anything that happens on campus. Why can't my kid go and visit the Kindergarten classes like the K-12 kids (uh, what possible meaning can it have to him to visit a place he has never been do)? Why can't my daughter go to the luau with the K-6 teachers? Why can't I be included in EVERY FRICKEN THING even though you have never seen hide nor hair of me since my kid started at school?
Unfortunately, he who is the loudest monkutare usually wins. Why does it always seem to be the parent who has the least amount of time and tuition invested in the school? It seems like those of us who have been there since eternity have developed some semblance of dignity and restraint in the light of such outrageous and nanny-nanny-boo-boo behavior. Basically, a grown up version of, "If we don't play my way, I'm taking home all of the toys and going home."
Why do my children deserve to participate in something as Seniors when yours do not? Here are my top five reasons:
1) My children emerged victorious from that WWF steel cage match known as Kindergarten Admissions. They "beat out" 7-9 other kumon addled, flashcard trained, alumni-spawned, grandparent donor progeny, "token" preschoolers to score spots. They are the Hulk Hogans of itty bittys.
2) My children have survived years of doing without - without sleep, withoug vacations, without meals that cost more than $5, without contact with the "real world" - since their first day of school. They should reap he rewards of living in that utopia known as private school for their sacrifices, at least for an hour in their Senior year. Particularly more so when they realize they are ill-prepared to function amongst normal people when they head off to college.
3) My family has sacrificed for many more years than yours. We've eaten many more packages of 10 cent saimin or orange mac n cheese for dinner than yours. We've done more time at the Carnival and have the malasada burns to prove it. We've spoken to inane neurotic new parents at PTA events all the while repressing our desires to say, "PLEASE go somewhere else." We've volunteered in the classroom and pretended that we enjoy your company. Why should you get the same as us when you're life only sucked half as much as ours on campus?
4) I will have had to wear school colors and drive a school-colored car for 13 years even though my favorite color belongs to the "enemy school". Even more horrible, only one of the school colors from the kids' school is figure flattering.
5) Your kid is strange and you kind of are too. Some of you even smell funky.
Oscar the Grouch's only reason why our kids should be allowed to participate and not the non-K to 12 kids is simple, "We paid tuition for 13 years and you haven't so we've earned it!"
Saturday, September 12, 2009
Jon Gosselin - please go away
I have never been more ashamed to be Asian than I am each time Jon Gosselin gets on television. He has done more damage to the cult of Asian maledom than Long Duk Dong from Sixteen Candles. I never thought there could be anything more offensive than having a gong go off each time Long Duk Dong appeared on screen and spoke broken English but Jon Gosselin has that topped. You almost expect him to spout a moustache, a queue and long fingernails in the manner of Fu Manchu. So evil.
What makes it worse is that the Korean original Mrs. Gosselin, Jon's mom, is also appearing in photographs by his side. I just don't get it. She never showed up on the TV show with her grandchildren but now her face is plastered everywhere. Do you know any Asian grandma who would approve of what Jon is doing? No way. If he was a "normal" Asian guy, his head would be slapped black and blue by his Mom and his ears would be ringing from the ongoing scolding for leaving his family. There is no way he would have been hanging out on a yacht with Christian Audigier if a real Asian mom was around. He's be hogtied, thrown into the trunk of his sporty white car, and driven to his kids' home.
Being an Asian Mom myself, I know we rule with an iron fist and a truckload of guilt. How could you not feel guilty walking out on eight kids?
I have had more than enough already with the young girlfriend. We get it. You are a stud muffin who can score young blond airheads. What you don't get is that you were much sexier and appealing to the majority of women in the US when you were the responsible father of eight who pitched in to run a home! When you sat on the couch and gaman-ed Kate's rantings, we all loved you. We all wished we had a doofus like you to take out all of the frustrations of life on.
Moaning about how tough your life was and how mean Kate was isn't endearing. It just confirms that you are an idiot. Ask any parent who stays home with one kid how 80% of the day sucks. Ask any stay at home parent what the highlight of the day is and it will inevitably be that moment when the spouse with the job walks through the door so you can take a breath and go to the bathroom without someone hanging all over you or knocking on the door. Now, multiply that by eight and a bad haircut. The stress is just unimaginable. As Olivia Soprano would scornfully say, "POOR YOU".
So just go away and take those other single dads on your reality show - the ever fluffier K-Fed and Michael Lohan - with you. Go get some real jobs and try to become real dads.
What makes it worse is that the Korean original Mrs. Gosselin, Jon's mom, is also appearing in photographs by his side. I just don't get it. She never showed up on the TV show with her grandchildren but now her face is plastered everywhere. Do you know any Asian grandma who would approve of what Jon is doing? No way. If he was a "normal" Asian guy, his head would be slapped black and blue by his Mom and his ears would be ringing from the ongoing scolding for leaving his family. There is no way he would have been hanging out on a yacht with Christian Audigier if a real Asian mom was around. He's be hogtied, thrown into the trunk of his sporty white car, and driven to his kids' home.
Being an Asian Mom myself, I know we rule with an iron fist and a truckload of guilt. How could you not feel guilty walking out on eight kids?
I have had more than enough already with the young girlfriend. We get it. You are a stud muffin who can score young blond airheads. What you don't get is that you were much sexier and appealing to the majority of women in the US when you were the responsible father of eight who pitched in to run a home! When you sat on the couch and gaman-ed Kate's rantings, we all loved you. We all wished we had a doofus like you to take out all of the frustrations of life on.
Moaning about how tough your life was and how mean Kate was isn't endearing. It just confirms that you are an idiot. Ask any parent who stays home with one kid how 80% of the day sucks. Ask any stay at home parent what the highlight of the day is and it will inevitably be that moment when the spouse with the job walks through the door so you can take a breath and go to the bathroom without someone hanging all over you or knocking on the door. Now, multiply that by eight and a bad haircut. The stress is just unimaginable. As Olivia Soprano would scornfully say, "POOR YOU".
So just go away and take those other single dads on your reality show - the ever fluffier K-Fed and Michael Lohan - with you. Go get some real jobs and try to become real dads.
Michael was wacko? Not compared to LaToya
I try not to be one of those people who rubber neck at accidents on the freeway but I just could not look away last night when Barbara Walters interviewed LaToya Jackson on tv. If you are of my generation, you remember when LaToya was just one of the "normal" Jacksons like Randy, Marlon, Jackie, Tito and Rebie. Not a media ho like Jermaine and not an actual talent like Janet. It seems like she was possessed by demons once she put that sparkly headband on and had her nose job. The modified perky plastic Jackson nose sported by Janet, Mama Katherine and originally by Michael and not the wide flat normal nose that they were all born with. Maybe the faux nose has good and bad power? It did wonders for Janet but demolished Michael and sent LaToya permanently into shameless self-promotion planet.
Nowadays, whenever you see LaToya, she is trying to pass as either Janet or Michael - depending on which has a hotter career at the time. I am sure if Tito hit it big, she would reinvent herself to be Toriano (yes, that's his real name). I'm sure she tried to look like Jesse Jackson during his failed Presidential campaign. Now that Michael in death is back on the top of the charts, she is a "drag king" trying to impersonate Michael. She even sported the whole military look that Michael was known for last night - the last time she wore anything like that was when she was performing (cough cough) in Vegas.
Basically, LaToya took credit for anything and everything Michael achieved. She was the one who first put a brooch on his shirt and inspired him to start dressing that way. She was the one who told him to Moonwalk. She was the one who encouraged Paris to give that powerful speech at the Memorial Service. I'm sure if she had been given more time, she would have told Barbara Walters that she gave birth to Bubbles the Chimp and landscaped the greenery at the Neverland Ranch.
I believe the allegations that she went into his home and stole his jewelry, clothing, and money. Isn't it awful that even in death, poor Michael cannot trust anyone?
I really detested LaToya when during her Jack Gordon phase, she came out and accused Michael of being a pedophile. That was stomach wrenching. To see someone turn against a sibling like that. Yes, I know EVERYONE knew Mike liked to cuddle with little boys but that whole unspoken bond of sibling loyalty should have won out. Really, ask anyone with a brother or sister. Even Charles Manson's sibling would not go on TV and turn like that.
Poor Michael, as long as LaToya is there, he will never rest in peace.
Nowadays, whenever you see LaToya, she is trying to pass as either Janet or Michael - depending on which has a hotter career at the time. I am sure if Tito hit it big, she would reinvent herself to be Toriano (yes, that's his real name). I'm sure she tried to look like Jesse Jackson during his failed Presidential campaign. Now that Michael in death is back on the top of the charts, she is a "drag king" trying to impersonate Michael. She even sported the whole military look that Michael was known for last night - the last time she wore anything like that was when she was performing (cough cough) in Vegas.
Basically, LaToya took credit for anything and everything Michael achieved. She was the one who first put a brooch on his shirt and inspired him to start dressing that way. She was the one who told him to Moonwalk. She was the one who encouraged Paris to give that powerful speech at the Memorial Service. I'm sure if she had been given more time, she would have told Barbara Walters that she gave birth to Bubbles the Chimp and landscaped the greenery at the Neverland Ranch.
I believe the allegations that she went into his home and stole his jewelry, clothing, and money. Isn't it awful that even in death, poor Michael cannot trust anyone?
I really detested LaToya when during her Jack Gordon phase, she came out and accused Michael of being a pedophile. That was stomach wrenching. To see someone turn against a sibling like that. Yes, I know EVERYONE knew Mike liked to cuddle with little boys but that whole unspoken bond of sibling loyalty should have won out. Really, ask anyone with a brother or sister. Even Charles Manson's sibling would not go on TV and turn like that.
Poor Michael, as long as LaToya is there, he will never rest in peace.
It's All About the Benjamins, Baby
Shameless plug coming up so skip this if you don't want to read my plea for money.
We are selling Ward Center Festival of Giving tickets at my office. The cost is $10 and the Club gets 100% of the proceeds. You can use the tickets in November (the first weekend?) at Ward Warehouse, Ward Center, Ward Entertainment, etc. to receive discounts and special gifts for ticketholders only.
You can designate your donation to go to our General Operating Account (for our regular expenses) or to our monthly newsletter.
We were also collecting to pay for flowers to decorate the graves at Punchbowl and other cemeteries for the 100th "boys" who have passed away. We have done this every year since the Joint Memorial Service started but this year, as many of you know, our financial situation was pretty bleak. No money to buy the flowers from our general account so we've had to ask for donation. Thank Buddha we raised all of the money needed to purchase the flowers for all of the graves!
We still need volunteers so if you want to help, show up at Punchbowl on Saturday, September 26 at 7:30 am to pitch in. It is really a great event, sure to move you to tears. Everyone can help, even the little kids. All you have to do is place a small bouquet of flowers at each headstone or niche. You'll have list of the veterans and the location of their final resting place. If you can read, walk and don't mind the sunshine, please come by.
If you want some tickets, you can call me at work (946-0272) or e-mail me at work (club100vets@gmail.cm) or contact me at one of my other numbers or e-mail addresses if you know them.
We are selling Ward Center Festival of Giving tickets at my office. The cost is $10 and the Club gets 100% of the proceeds. You can use the tickets in November (the first weekend?) at Ward Warehouse, Ward Center, Ward Entertainment, etc. to receive discounts and special gifts for ticketholders only.
You can designate your donation to go to our General Operating Account (for our regular expenses) or to our monthly newsletter.
We were also collecting to pay for flowers to decorate the graves at Punchbowl and other cemeteries for the 100th "boys" who have passed away. We have done this every year since the Joint Memorial Service started but this year, as many of you know, our financial situation was pretty bleak. No money to buy the flowers from our general account so we've had to ask for donation. Thank Buddha we raised all of the money needed to purchase the flowers for all of the graves!
We still need volunteers so if you want to help, show up at Punchbowl on Saturday, September 26 at 7:30 am to pitch in. It is really a great event, sure to move you to tears. Everyone can help, even the little kids. All you have to do is place a small bouquet of flowers at each headstone or niche. You'll have list of the veterans and the location of their final resting place. If you can read, walk and don't mind the sunshine, please come by.
If you want some tickets, you can call me at work (946-0272) or e-mail me at work (club100vets@gmail.cm) or contact me at one of my other numbers or e-mail addresses if you know them.
Friday, September 4, 2009
Goodbye Michael
Cried again watching Michael's memorial service. From the first strains of the instrumental and somber version of "Will You Be There?" to the image of Blanket coming out of the limo with Prince and Paris to the ending shots of the family leaving him behind. Too much for me to take. Even though I had the soothing voice of my object of lust, Anderson Cooper, talk me through it, it was too painful and heartwrenching. I couldn't bear to watch it all.
Okay, but it was funny when Andy boy thought an elderly black guy was Quincy Jones and had to take it back. I know that was going to set it off in the blog-o-sphere.
It was nice that Macaulay Culkin was there but where was Emmanuel Lewis? Didn't Webster deserve a seat? Was Brookie there? I guess she had to go and get an eyelash weave.
I am sad for myself that I won't be able to do a pilgrimage to visit Michael in his final resting place. I look at the importance that Graceland has for the women of my Mom's generation and the closure it has given those who worshipped at the temple of Elvis. I need and want that for myself and for those of my generation. To be able to pay respects to Michael and in doing so, deal with my own grief.
Well, I guess it is true that we "never can say goodbye" after all.
Plus, you know that darned Jermaine would turn it into something horrible.
Okay, but it was funny when Andy boy thought an elderly black guy was Quincy Jones and had to take it back. I know that was going to set it off in the blog-o-sphere.
It was nice that Macaulay Culkin was there but where was Emmanuel Lewis? Didn't Webster deserve a seat? Was Brookie there? I guess she had to go and get an eyelash weave.
I am sad for myself that I won't be able to do a pilgrimage to visit Michael in his final resting place. I look at the importance that Graceland has for the women of my Mom's generation and the closure it has given those who worshipped at the temple of Elvis. I need and want that for myself and for those of my generation. To be able to pay respects to Michael and in doing so, deal with my own grief.
Well, I guess it is true that we "never can say goodbye" after all.
Plus, you know that darned Jermaine would turn it into something horrible.
Mr. Mandoo Maniac
Okay, I admit it. I am addicted to being the first person to jum
p on the new restaurant/food bandwagon. I had heard about Mr. Mandoo at work when some of the ladies were talking about how delicious the food was. I know I look totally Korean and am a big duk fan (yes the word is DUK as in Korean mochi and not the other bad word D**K that some of you are giggling about) but I am not really a mandoo person. (Photo is of Mr. Mad Cow doing his part for international harmony by introducing Mr. Kim Chee Mandoo from Korea to Ms. Chicken McNugget from the Good Ole USA).
As is my usual state in the morning, I was only kind of paying attention as I tried to put on makeup and keep a huge mangy pit bull's rear end out of my face so all I caught was "Piikoi across from Blockbuster", "8:00 am" and "kal bi mandoo".
As usual, I did not look up the address and parked on Piikoi, near Ichiriki. I saw the Blockbuster sign and thought the place was in that mini-mall since there was a yellow sign with some round thingy and indistiguishable Asian writing. I started to cross the street and notice that there was a stream of people walking into another store on the Ichiriki side, next to the old no longer there Home Sweet Home furniture store. I saw the demonic looking Mr. Mandoo logo, turned around and headed in the right direction.
I did order an ice coffee and it took two of the staff people to put it together. Skip this totally, It was awful. They dug out some hardened black tar heroin looking rock and plopped it into a cup. A huge chunk fell on the ground during the diggine process. They then added some coffee from a vacumn jug which melted all of the ice that had previously been put in. It was very watery and looked awful. Plus, the cup was only 2/3 full. I was told to go and put cream and sugar in it. It wasn't even real cream but that pump liquid Coffeemate from Costco. By the time I walked over there, the ice was already melted. Since I had to wait so long, they gave this to me free but had I known it would have been so terrible, I would have asked for a free mandoo instead. It was like drinking brown sugar and water. Horrible and pricey.
(4) Everything was written in proper English and not the usual ENGRISH you find at most Korean food joints in the Ala Moana adjacent area.
p on the new restaurant/food bandwagon. I had heard about Mr. Mandoo at work when some of the ladies were talking about how delicious the food was. I know I look totally Korean and am a big duk fan (yes the word is DUK as in Korean mochi and not the other bad word D**K that some of you are giggling about) but I am not really a mandoo person. (Photo is of Mr. Mad Cow doing his part for international harmony by introducing Mr. Kim Chee Mandoo from Korea to Ms. Chicken McNugget from the Good Ole USA).However, anytime a place comes highly recommended by the distinguished ladies who craft at my workplace, I know that I can count on a great meal at a great price. They are really selective when it comes to kau kau. Really, there is some correlation between the ability to crank out 1000 plastic canvas kleenix holders in one sitting and a discerning palate. However, I had no idea where it was and all of my free time at home has been spent making centerpieces for a dinner I'm going to rather than on the computer so I that I would just wait for a sign from Buddha.
The large lobed one sent me THE message on Thursday, when Mr. Mandoo was featured by Manolo Morales on the KHON Morning News on Thursday. I was expecting a grimy, dark place tucked away behind some K-Bar on Keeaumoku staffed by non-English speaking folks (you know, the ones who give you the eye when you go to pay at Palama Market and speak in English since they think you are Korean and you really don't want to explain that you are really Japanese but look Korean since you are concerned that you will be the target of "comfort women" hatred) but it was a bright, clean cheery place with enthusiastic and even witty young women.
As is my usual state in the morning, I was only kind of paying attention as I tried to put on makeup and keep a huge mangy pit bull's rear end out of my face so all I caught was "Piikoi across from Blockbuster", "8:00 am" and "kal bi mandoo".
I resisted the temptation to go to the place on Thursday, mostly because I had a car full of fish-related pupus for the veterans for Wine Gang. But I knew that Friday, it would be WON (the mandoo are called Won or King because they are so huge). Please note the comparative size of the mandoo (kogi on the left and kim chee on the right to the Chicken McNugget. Ho da big, yeah? Really manapua sized and not the usual mandoo size.
As usual, I did not look up the address and parked on Piikoi, near Ichiriki. I saw the Blockbuster sign and thought the place was in that mini-mall since there was a yellow sign with some round thingy and indistiguishable Asian writing. I started to cross the street and notice that there was a stream of people walking into another store on the Ichiriki side, next to the old no longer there Home Sweet Home furniture store. I saw the demonic looking Mr. Mandoo logo, turned around and headed in the right direction.
Note to future restauranteurs. Do not have your featured creature look like he is sitting on the toilet and is constipated. Really do not do that. It creates a lot of trepidation about consuming your product.
The offerings are very simple. Five types of mandoo, miso soup, some picked veggies and drinks. That's it. Nothing else. No rice. Four of the mandoo are made with ground pork and one is made with shrimp. They all have organic veggies and tofu. There was something on a board about the ratio of veggies and tofu to meat but I don't remember what it was. I think it w
as a high ratio of non dead flesh to dead.
as a high ratio of non dead flesh to dead. All they had left was the Kogi mandoo which is the regular mandoo. It is round and looks exactly like a manapua. It has veggies, tofu and long rice (which is why Oscar the Grouch won't eat one). It was $2.75. I didn't eat one since I wanted to save it for the kids (who also have not eaten it since they busted it open and went "yuck veggies"). I gave one to DT and one to RA at work and they loved it. They said it was really juicy and delicious but not very mandoo-y as expected. Of course, I did not dare tell them it was $2.75 since I would have gotten a long lecture about how one mandoo was 1/5th of my hourly pay (sob sob - non profit wages). So buying six actually cost me over an hour of hard work.
The other mandoo they had left was the kim chee mandoo. I luv luv luv kim chee, always have and always will. Of course, I am at the age wher
e kim chee does not love me. Let's just say I never look like the Mr. Mandoo logo within 10 minutes of eating kim chee. I did eat one of these when I got to work and it was so onolicious! It was a little spicy but not unbearably so. Just the burning warmth a few seconds after biting into the thing but a nice burn, not the painful one that usually comes with Indian food. I felt bad though since the office smelled like kim chee for the rest of the day. I even got kind of punchy as time went by and the odor of the remaining kim chee mandoo wafted out of my desk drawer. My poor friend and co-worker AS had to put up with this all day and she didn't have her usual daily mango delivered by GS to block the smell. This mandoo was $3.50. There were only two left and I got them.
e kim chee does not love me. Let's just say I never look like the Mr. Mandoo logo within 10 minutes of eating kim chee. I did eat one of these when I got to work and it was so onolicious! It was a little spicy but not unbearably so. Just the burning warmth a few seconds after biting into the thing but a nice burn, not the painful one that usually comes with Indian food. I felt bad though since the office smelled like kim chee for the rest of the day. I even got kind of punchy as time went by and the odor of the remaining kim chee mandoo wafted out of my desk drawer. My poor friend and co-worker AS had to put up with this all day and she didn't have her usual daily mango delivered by GS to block the smell. This mandoo was $3.50. There were only two left and I got them. They also sell three other mandoo: a kalbi mandoo which is not made with kalbi at all but is ground pork with kalbi sauce, a spicy pork mandoo (ground pork with spicy sauce and I think mushrooms) and shrimp and vegetable mandoo which had a funky yellow wrapper in the photo. I was told I could wait 20 minutes for a new batch to come out of the steamer but as I had already been waiting in line for 15 minutes, I decided to pass. They did suggest ordering ahead of time if you have a big order (ex: more than 6 mandoo).
They have some sets available. One mandoo with miso soup, two mandoo with miso soup and two mandoo with a drink. I can't remember what the prices were - I think over $8 or so. It cost more if you order a shrimp mandoo or an ice coffee.
I did order an ice coffee and it took two of the staff people to put it together. Skip this totally, It was awful. They dug out some hardened black tar heroin looking rock and plopped it into a cup. A huge chunk fell on the ground during the diggine process. They then added some coffee from a vacumn jug which melted all of the ice that had previously been put in. It was very watery and looked awful. Plus, the cup was only 2/3 full. I was told to go and put cream and sugar in it. It wasn't even real cream but that pump liquid Coffeemate from Costco. By the time I walked over there, the ice was already melted. Since I had to wait so long, they gave this to me free but had I known it would have been so terrible, I would have asked for a free mandoo instead. It was like drinking brown sugar and water. Horrible and pricey.
After my trip to the mandoo grail, I was surprised by the following things:
(1) There was no odor de garlic that usually lurks at Korean places
(1) There was no odor de garlic that usually lurks at Korean places
(2) I was the 5th person in line and almost everything had sold out even though they had only been open for five minutes
(3) My plan to buy 2 dozen mandoo and have money for a cup of ille coffee was not going to happen since they were $2.50-$3.75 each. Instead, I bought 8 mandoo and a cup of crappy iced coffee.
(4) Everything was written in proper English and not the usual ENGRISH you find at most Korean food joints in the Ala Moana adjacent area.
(5) There was no K-Drama music blaring nor a tv with K-Dramas on it in the place.
(6) There was no photo of Bae Yong Joon behind the cash register.
(7) What really shocked and impressed me was the young woman who was he owner. Boy, she is going to go far in this business since she has her hospitality and customer service skills down. The woman behind me had a phone order that had been lost. Apparently, one of the employees wrote the order on a post-it instead of the correct order form. The woman was visibly upset and declined the offer to wait 20 minutes to have them complete her order. Rather than just say, "Here, take your money back B-yatch" as is the usual response in most places around town, the owner profusely apologized and said she would DELIVER the order to the woman's workplace at the time the woman designated! The woman explained that she worked in Kalihi and it would be a drive but the owner said that was okay. The mandoo would get there on time.
(7) What really shocked and impressed me was the young woman who was he owner. Boy, she is going to go far in this business since she has her hospitality and customer service skills down. The woman behind me had a phone order that had been lost. Apparently, one of the employees wrote the order on a post-it instead of the correct order form. The woman was visibly upset and declined the offer to wait 20 minutes to have them complete her order. Rather than just say, "Here, take your money back B-yatch" as is the usual response in most places around town, the owner profusely apologized and said she would DELIVER the order to the woman's workplace at the time the woman designated! The woman explained that she worked in Kalihi and it would be a drive but the owner said that was okay. The mandoo would get there on time.
It is even more amazing that the order wasn't a very big one. Just 12 mandoo so about $40. Yet, the customer was going to be happy.
Well, the owner did ask the lady to give directions to someone on the phone before she got to the counter.
I was not surprised that:
(1) The place was packed with local folks. Real local folks who were not Korean and who had no idea what won mandoo was until Manolo Morales told them. You know every one of us was thinking the same thing, "Looks like manapua".
(2) The heavily hyped "vegetarian" manapua had shrimp in it.
(2) The heavily hyped "vegetarian" manapua had shrimp in it.
(3) There were containers of ground pork mandoo filling mix on the counters in the kitchen. This seems to be the korean equivalent of the gau gee pork filling sitting on a table in a Chinese restaurant. I bet you can count o
n one hand the number of times you have gone to any ethnic restaurant of these genres and not seen an uncooked pork filled platter somewhere in the place just festering.
n one hand the number of times you have gone to any ethnic restaurant of these genres and not seen an uncooked pork filled platter somewhere in the place just festering.(4) My kids prefer fried lumps of sodium and chicken fat to anything remotely healthy or organic.
(5) An office reeking of kim chee will keep the visitors away.
My five favorite Korean places as of today:
1) Ono's BBQ in the Kaimuki Shopping Center. They have the best side dishes and I worship at the temple of the duk man doo guk. Total Korean Seoul food. I dream of this at night and wish I came from the middle land and not the land of the rising sun.
2) The indistinguishable kim chee store on Keeaumoku - near the park and across the street from Pineland. I always wanted to go but there was never parking in the front. I finally went since a spot was open, leaving my precious and grouchy kids in the car. I bought kim chee green onions (not chopped but whole) which was too spicy for me to eat like that - had to chop it into tiny bits and be a wuss, regular kim chee and cucumber kim chee. I bought sushi but it had fishcake in it which I hate so I gave that to Oscar. He said it was good but strange.
(3) Frozen black bean noodles from Palama Market. They used to eat this in every episode of First Wives Club. I think it is Korean ghetto food but I love it. Black beans, noodles and boiled potatoes. Funky but good.
(4) Kim Chee dip from Tamura's Market on Waialae. I am eating this now and have put it on everything. Tuscan garlic/parmesan bruscetta, pizza doritos, banana muffin. It will probably shorten my life with its deadly combination of mayo and cream cheese but who cares? Death for dip.
(5) Good old reliable head cabbage Halm's kim chee.
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