Family

The Little Rascals 

“Boys will be boys” is often quoted to give kids a green light to be loud and rude in public. There comes a time, though, when immature actions are simply unacceptable. For instance, disrespectful behavior, intentional bullying, and obscene language are visible signs of bad manners, especially in the presence of someone old enough to be a grandmother. This afternoon, at the resort, there were three boys I would guess between the ages of 8 and 12. They were congregating around the public showers made available for rinsing the sand off your feet at the edge of the beach. I could see they were on task at first, so I waited patiently for my turn at one of the four nozzles. Soon it became apparent they had no intention of leaving and had gone from rinsing the sand off their feet to playing in the water streams. I inched my way around to one side and asked if they would mind me using the water for a moment. The oldest boy began to spit at the other two boys, which resulted in some horseplay that involved boogie boards. Still, I rinsed my feet. At that point, this same kid dropped the “F” bomb, proving to himself he was one tough cookie. The smallest boy immediately responded by saying, “Watch your mouth.” As you can imagine, it only inflamed the culprit into toughening up with more shoving, spitting, and swearing. As I finished my task, I looked at the young brown-eyed boy, smiled and said, “Thank you.” His face broke into a smile. How refreshing it was to see such respect and manners coming from the boy who clearly should have seen the older boys as role models. 

The Day I Met a Movie Star

From the second story window seat at the Olympic Café, I had a vantage point for a flurry of activity down below. Gazing out over the main thoroughfare, I caught sight of a man standing on the side of the road. He was tall and blonde with a rock solid build, wearing an olive green quilted vest zipped halfway down, flattering his firm chest and muscular biceps. The swim trunks he wore hit mid-thigh; modest enough for walking around in flip-flops. After looking both ways and checking traffic, he crossed the road and was soon out of sight. Meanwhile, back at our table, the perky waitress dropped off a tropical drink favorite rimmed with a juicy pineapple wedge and teal umbrella plus two glasses of thirst-quenching water. Lunch was just as refreshing with local produce, peppery spices, and sweet herbs. As I munched away enjoying every bite of the Spicy Chicken Thai Wrap with extra peanut sauce, I looked across the table beyond Gerald’s shoulder and noticed a different couple had arrived next to us. Moments later, Gerald took note of a gigantic stuffed burrito the waitress carried by, and casually said so. It was placed directly in front of the same man I saw on the street below. Something about him seemed vaguely familiar in the flashbacks of my mind. Pretending to take a snapshot of my husband, I zeroed in on the man of mystery. Could it be, I wondered? A quick Google-search told me my hunch was spot on. It was none other than Dolph Lundgren, a Swedish actor who starred with Sylvester Stallone in several action-packed movies including “Rocky IV” and the current “Expendables” series. Practically in a panic, I ransacked my purse hoping to find an ink pen to request an autograph. No such luck. Time was running out as dishes were cleared and the check had arrived. Suddenly, as though being pulled to my feet, I stood up and walked over to his table. Almost frozen, I stood across from him next to his partner, Jenny Sandesson (also an actor), not wishing to be rude. When he looked up, I said, “Excuse me. Are you…?” Before I could finish he responded with a smile, “Yes, I am.” My face must have lit up like a fireworks display because his very next words were, “Would you like to take a photo?” “Jerry!”, I screamed, “grab your phone! He said we can take a picture!” I practically flew over the table to his side, placed my hand on his incredible bicep like we were old friends, and smiled from ear to ear. As we departed, I shook his hand and said “Thank you, Mr. Lundgren. Rocky IV was the BEST Rocky ever!” He grinned with a twinkle in his eye as his partner, Jenny, chimed in, “I agree!” With that, the couple stood up and headed for the door when two adoring male fans leapt into their path, pausing to offer more accolades along with firm handshakes. Two seconds later when Dolph and Jenny left us, they turned with a smile and a wave, and exited the restaurant. In jubilation, we all found ourselves waving back. Gerald looked off our perch from above, saw them cross the street, jump into a Jeep Cherokee and zoom out of sight. 

To Each His Own

Some people come to the beach to play volleyball all afternoon while bystanders cheer them on. Others hit the waves carrying poly-constructed surfboards with barking dogs in tow. Every now and then an ageless couple is seen strolling hand in hand with waves tickling their ankles in every step as a dedicated jogger passes them by. From grandparents to teenagers to toddlers, the crescent-mooned shoreline is dotted with primitive sand castles and elaborate sculptures, each one a masterpiece to the artist who creates it. Yellow, red, and orange umbrellas promise shade with lingering sea breezes when the tropical sun becomes relentless. As I glance up from my enticing paperback novel, take a sip of raspberry iced tea, I notice a middle-aged man standing chest high in waves smoking a Kauaiian cigar while staring longingly out to sea. Tell me now, what is your idea of Paradise on Earth?

Water Spouts on the Horizon 

“The whales are out! I’ll bring some binoculars to your table,” exclaimed the casually dressed blue-eyed waiter in flip-flops as he offered us two menus. It was “Happy Hour” at the Beachwalk Restaurant and Grill on the east side of the island and Markus wasn’t referring to the side effects of their signature Bloody Mary cocktails. He was all-Kauaiian native with his ivory-carved octopus medallion choker and long dark hair tied back into a knot at the nape of his neck. 
Humpback whales can be seen from shore at any number of locations around Kauai, but peak season is during the winter months of January and February when most of the calving occurs for them to mate and birth their young in the warm, tropical waters. It was a little premature for their inaugural appearance, but we still caught a glimpse of their water spouts on the horizon. 
Presently, we had a nice balcony front-row seat for watching seaside activities. When the humpback whales refused to make another appearance, we simply observed a class of elementary schoolchildren participating in Field Day activities as tag-team cheers exploded from the sidelines. 
Roosters with bright red combs and plumed tail feathers strutted back and forth demanding attention until an ambitious tourist tried to capture their images on film. Only then would they kick up their taloned feet and strut away crowing a “cock-a-doodle doo” in defiance. 
By now the famed fish and chips entree had appeared and we both sunk our teeth into the depths of pinnacle exclamatory utterance, practically rolling our eyes back in culmination. If this wasn’t a taste of Heaven, then we had no idea what was.   
We sat there until the afternoon delivery of sweet onions, fresh garlic, and garden produce arrived and our appetite had long been sated. Five bamboo swizzle sticks scattered topsy-turvey on the signature cocktail napkins were all the evidence left remaining of an afternoon spent in open-air tropical bliss and latter day delight. 

Dog-Day at the Beach 

Dogs love to play at the beach. Running through the water makes them very happy. As a master grabs a frisbee and tosses it across the shoreline to be retrieved by a shaggy red Irish Setter, it’s enough to pause a pick-up game of sand volleyball. Heads turn. Everyone waits to see it happen. When it does, you hear “Good boy!” as the dog races back, tongue dangling, and tail wagging ready to go again. I watched as two terriers fought over a piece of driftwood a guy tossed into the ocean. The smaller of the two was more aggressive, obviously the Alpha Dog, since it would clamp its teeth around the stick and shake its head back and forth until the larger one backed down and relinquished it. Napoleon complex? I thought all dogs loved water, but upon closer scrutiny, I saw a ten-year old girl cradling her pet spaniel as she stood waist deep with salty waves splashing her mid-section. This dog had a mortal fear of water and had no intention of entering the unpredictable ocean. I wonder if she assured it all dogs instinctively know how to “doggie paddle”. At least, I thought they did. On the other hand, maybe this species of man’s best friend tended to sink like a sack of bricks when submerged. I’ll have to ask “June” the next time I see her. 

Here Today and Gone Tomorrow 

Farther up the bay past the mound of black lava rock, a strange object came into view, undoubtedly washed ashore overnight. Debris of some sort lay flanked on the sand left behind by high tide. Its size resembled a small boat, but was shaped more like the curve of a single engine plane, except it had two grooved pipes protruding from it. Small, grayish-white crustaceans or barnacles of various sizes, as well as swarms of flying gnats, added to the mystery that sent our minds spinning with sinister tales of Barnacle Bill. A cloudy dense jellyfish, looking like a pile of goo with a lingering odor as though it had rotted days ago, still clung to the rim of the debris further substantiating our ideas of a watery grave. What was the untold story? Without revelation, during the night the sea slipped in, hoisted the plank upon a wave, and ferried this mysterious object back out into open waters. Here today and gone tomorrow. 

Sipping Tiki Cocktails 

“I see you two are working on your tan.” The Slovakian accent came from over our shoulders as we were walking hand in hand across the muted grey slate patio at the beach resort. We turned in unison to be cheerfully greeted with open smiles by Andrea and her mother. Regaining our composure from the aftershock of being recognized from behind took a split second before we settled into charming introductions and comfortable conversation.   (Andrea and her husband are the discerning owners of our luxury condo, residing above us on the second and third floors as their own year-round permanent residence.)

Although Andrea’s mother (Matka) spoke no English, we discovered she was visiting her daughter for the winter months to escape from the cold, snow, and harsh weather of her native homeland. The wrinkles on her eyes were unique and lightly creased as if they were made for her. In unfeigned fashion, her universal smile was as refreshing as a couple of Mai Tai tiki cocktails sipped poolside. She went on to point to her right forearm while Andrea translated her message: “Matka was working on her tan as well.” It just goes to show you, the inner child in all of us is willing to leave our cares and winter coats behind to head for a paradise of luminous sand, sparkling blue water that stays summer warm, and golden rays of sunshine. 

This Old Man of the Sea

The slender European stood sentinel at the water’s edge one foot barely touching the base of a black lava boulder, the other steadying himself against the shifting sand. Wave after wave broke ashore turning soothing colors of turquoise, aqua and finally sea foam green. His short red swimming trunks were marked with a tiny striped flag, no doubt proclaiming pride of his native homeland. As he raised his hand to shield his timeworn eyes from the reflecting sun, he squinted at the horizon. Following his gaze, I saw a tiny silver-haired pinhead bobbing up and down on each incoming wave. This Old Man of the Sea who radiated wisdom and experience stood there protectively keeping watch on his cherished partner, the love of his life, as she slowly and methodically swam toward him. 

King of the Island

A speckled rooster crowed as he strutted around the beach chairs with head held high acting as though he were “King of the Island” and we were all expected to clap our hands in applause at being in the mere presence of him. Slowly and methodically a hunchback wiry old man with a weather-beaten brow sauntered toward the cedar shelter, his gait slow, wearing nautical swim trunks. A full-face snorkeling mask was dangling loosely around his neck. Each step reminded him of how he had taken his vitality and physical strength for granted only a few years ago. The crashing waves of high tide seemed more of a challenge this morning than he initially thought.